It's A Boy
by Mariel1
Summary: If the Tooth Fairy has always been a female in the past, how will the Council of Legendary Figures react when the latest newborn in the bloodline happens to be a boy? What was his childhood like, and how did he get to where he is today? You'll find the answers to those questions here! (I suggest reading 'The Hollow' and 'A Strange Bond' first.)
1. Chapter 1: A Little Surprise

"It's A Boy"

_Note: __I've had this in the back of my mind for a while, based on my own headcanon for TF. I thought it would work better as a separate story, rather than as a flashback in 'A Strange Bond', so here it is. There will be a lot of time jumps, but if anyone is curious about what happens in between, I might be able to work out a oneshot. I'm debating whether or not to have Alpha show up at some point, before she's actually Alpha, but that might be pushing it as far as coincidences go. XD Hope you like it!_

"Chapter 1: A Little Surprise"

September 20th, 1510

Fergus thought he knew what was getting into when he married the Tooth Fairy. Or, as he called her in the privacy of their own home, Cori. He knew that when her mother passed away, she would take on her duties and this would greatly limit their time together. He knew that, but surely that was centuries into the future.

He knew that he would be in charge of caring for any children they might have if his mother-in-law met with a premature end, as sometimes happened when the weaker fliers had no choice but to brave bad weather. Still, the current Tooth Fairy was still going strong, and at eight hundred years old he and Cori were still young yet (though he was beginning to look middle-aged). There was plenty of time to expand their family.

He knew that their firstborn would be a daughter, and the reason why he knew this was because every child in the Tooth Fairy bloodline had been a female, and so, why would that trend ever change?

None of the races, magical or non-magical, were immune to complacency, and life derailed his plans as life often likes to do. Cori became pregnant when they had only been married for three years. Cori's mother, who insisted that she and her daughter be addressed as 'Tooth Fairy', as was proper, had fallen gravely ill when her magic went into an unusually bad case of flux. The reason why it got so bad in the first place was because it struck when she was alone, and Mother Nature was the one to discover her after she didn't start her rounds for the night. By that time, her fever was very high.

When she recovered, her health was permanently damaged and she couldn't fly as well as she did before. Her daughter wanted to take over, since she was the firstborn and it was her right, but the woman was nothing if not stubborn. There _had _to be plenty of time...right?

Now, as Fergus paced the yard and listened to his wife's agonized cries, he waited for his own daughter to be born. The midwives had barred him from their small dwelling, and, quite frankly, he had no desire to see his wife go through so much pain. Instead of insisting that he remain at her side, he had kissed her clammy forehead and gone out.

The mental image of her reaching out to him as he turned away wouldn't stop nagging at him, but he remained outside. It was expected of men to be outside when their wives gave birth. Men weren't meant to see that. Just as women weren't meant to know what men talked about when they got together without their wives. And yet...

_She needs me. And I'm out here._

Fergus folded his arms across his barrel chest, and he halted his pacing and stared anxiously at the door when the screams suddenly stopped. There was a moment of complete silence, then a gurgling cry, and finally a healthy wail. Fergus fluttered his large red wings and waited to be let back inside. As the minutes ticked by and no one came out to give him a verbal update, he began to worry. His daughter sounded healthy, if those lusty cries were anything to go by, so what was the delay?

Finally the door opened, and one of the two Fairy women who had attended the birth came out to meet him. "You may go in now, Fergus, but there's-"

He slipped past her in a moment of unintentional rudeness; he was anxious to see his wife and child, and he pulled back the curtain that hung in their bedroom doorway in lieu of a door. Cori lay exhausted on the bed, the tips of her delicate pink wings peeking over her shoulders as she cradled the tiny bundle in her arms. The other midwife left the room with a basket that was filled with towels and he didn't want to know what else, and he frowned when she pushed past him.

"Fergus..." Cori smiled up at him, but there was something about her expression that he didn't quite like. Perhaps it was fatigue. Her dark hair was damp with perspiration, and she looked like she was ready to fall asleep.

Fergus came over and kissed her, placing a gentle hand on the bundle in her arms. "Is she all right?"

"Yes...but..." Cori trailed off as if she were confused.

"What? What's wrong?"

The swaddled baby squirmed and began to fuss, wanting to be fed.

Cori turned her eyes back to the baby, who was growing increasingly agitated. "Nothing is _wrong,_ but...it's not a she. We have a _son_..."

Fergus's face went blank as his wife began to nurse their child. Their _son._ The Tooth Fairy was supposed to be a _female!_ It was a _woman's _job, and that line had always birthed girls!

But in that day and age, no one knew that it was really the father who determined the sex of the child, and that the unbroken line of girls had merely been the result of random chance.

He shook his head. "This can't be right..."

Cori frowned at him, on the verge of tears. "What a thing to say...Our baby is _healthy. _Isn't that what matters?"

"Of _course_ it matters..." He realized his error and looked down at his son. The boy really did favor him in terms of looks, so...perhaps it was just as well that he wasn't born a girl. "I just didn't expect the baby to be a boy. He's a good size, too."

Cori gave a mirthless chuckle, startling the baby, but he immediately relaxed and went back to what he was doing. "I honestly wouldn't have minded if he were a bit smaller."

Fergus colored a little and cleared his throat.

She sighed as she prepared to deliver the second piece of news. Fairies were not born with fully developed wings. If they were, childbirth would be quite impossible. Until a Fairy child was old enough to walk, their wings remained undersized and attached to their backs, but the difference between male and female wings was still there. Males had larger wings than females. Smaller wings on a boy was considered a deformity, one that showed up from time to time, and since this wasn't a desirable trait to pass on they often had little success in finding a wife.

Cori and Fergus wouldn't know how large their son's wings would be until they detached and expanded to their full size, but she had seen the almost tattoo-like purple design on her baby's back, and she _knew._ If it wasn't for the obvious proof that he was male, she would think that this baby was a girl. How would Fergus react?

"What is it?" he asked.

"His wings are smaller than they should be...He'll be teased..." She stroked the baby's wispy brown curls with her thumb. He'd been born with a lot of hair. Even the midwives had commented on it.

Fergus took this in with a thoughtful look on his face, and eventually he nodded. "Then I'll have to show him how to take care of himself. And what about a name?"

"You _know_ what his name is," Cori reminded him, "I can't change the rules, husband."

"Yes, but what will we _call_ him? Your name isn't really 'Cori'. It's just what _I_ call you." Fergus replied.

Cori adjusted her nightgown when the baby decided he was full, and she propped him up with his chin on her shoulder to rub and pat his back. "I like the name 'Roy'."

"That's a good one."

"_Ahhhp!_"

Cori and Fergus both chuckled at the volume of their son's burp, and Fergus nodded, "I think _he_ likes it, too."

"He doesn't just _look_ like you; he _sounds_ like you!" Cori teased. "Would you like to hold him?"

Fergus nodded, but he'd never held a baby before. He'd never had any desire to, really, mostly because he had seen how boneless they looked when they were new, and he was afraid of losing his grip and, Heaven forbid, dropping them. When Cori passed baby Roy over to him his grip was unsure, and the infant's eyes popped open as soon as he sensed he was being held by someone other than his mother. More to the point, he sensed that whoever was holding him didn't know what he was doing.

Fergus looked at Roy. Roy looked at Fergus. _Definitely_ not 'Mama'. "_Waaaaaa!_"

The loudness of the cry hurt Fergus's ears, and his heart sank as he quickly handed the baby back to Cori. "He hates me..."

"No, he doesn't," Cori took her son back, and the baby settled immediately. "I think it's because you weren't supporting his bottom correctly. Babies like to feel secure. It'll get easier."

The midwives came back in to give Cori some last minute advice, and Fergus made himself scarce for a little while as they talked. He went back in when they were gone, and saw that Cori was almost asleep again. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she sighed, trying to force her eyes to stay open. "It's been a very long day. And when I've recovered, Mother Nature will want to see him. The Council needs to know..."

Fergus nodded, wondering what they would say when they found out the next Tooth Fairy after Cori would be a _man. _He saw how tired his wife was, and he held out his arms. "Let me try again. You look tired."

Cori nodded and carefully passed Roy to his father once more, and this time Fergus supported him properly and he didn't get upset. As he grew less tentative and more sure of what he was doing, Fergus fluttered his wings and smiled.

_This is my son._


	2. Chapter 2: Debut

"It's A Boy"

_Note:__ Fergus puts a rude doctor in his place. Mother Nature and the rest of the Council meet the new future Tooth Fairy at the Year-End Holiday Conference, and after the meeting she pulls Fergus and fam aside for a chat. _

_Since this is 500 years in the past, not all of the Council members are the same. Mother Nature, Father Time, Cupid, Jack Frost and Sandman are the same (although the Sandman legend wasn't around in 1500, so I'm taking some creative license here). There is a different Easter Bunny (again, creative license), Santa is a different Santa, and obviously Alpha hasn't even been born yet. Bernard isn't the Head Elf at this point, but he makes an appearance. And, though it isn't explicitly stated, the 'current' Head Elf, Jeremy, is Curtis's father._

"Chapter 2: Debut"

1510

No one ever explained to Fergus that new babies cried a _lot. _The first week after his son's birth was relatively peaceful. The baby spent a lot of time sleeping, only crying to announce that he needed a feed or a change, but colic set in after that, and it was a _nightmare._ Nothing he or Cori did could calm the boy, who frequently screamed himself hoarse, and the town's closest doctor began to grow annoyed with the anxious new parents. On their fourth visit, the young doctor made the mistake of snapping at Cori and driving her to tears.

"You _silly_ woman, there is _nothing _wrong with your son," Dr. Seth raised his voice to be heard above the exhausted infant's plaintive wails. "It's a simple case of colic, just like it was the last time you brought him here, and the time before that, and the time before _that._ I already _told_ you what to do, and if you'd been paying attention-"

Cori's face twisted and she turned away with a loud sob, and Fergus got between them, his hands beginning to glow red with his personal shade of magic. His contained rage was truly a sight to behold. "That's more than enough. Listen, you pompous ass, I don't care if you learned at the elbow of Hippocrates himself, that doesn't give you the right to speak to my wife that way. If you'd let her get a word in edgewise, you'd _know_ that we followed your instructions to the letter, and he's _still_ screaming all the time!"

Dr. Seth seemed to be doing his best goldfish impression as his mouth opened and closed, but even if he could have found his voice, Fergus wasn't giving him an opening.

"_We _can't sleep, _he _can't sleep, and he's _miserable!_ He won't eat when he's like this. We tried rubbing that stuff on his belly, we tried a warm bath, we tried pacing the room with him, walking him outside for a change of scenery, and _every night_ he screams so hard he turns purple! Now, either your diagnosis is wrong, and you're just too stubborn to admit it, or we need to try something else. And _apologize _to my wife...before I say something unkind." Fergus curled his glowing hands into fists. He wasn't known for being violent, but he was a large man, and he was _furious. _

Dr. Seth had backed up so that his slate gray wings brushed against the hanging anatomy chart, causing it to sway, and he vigorously nodded his head. "I apologize...Um...let me have another look at the boy."

"Absolutely not," Fergus grabbed his coat and put it on. "You're never going near our child again. We'll find someone who knows what he's doing. Let's go, Cori. It's a bit of a flight, but I hear Dr. Tanin is very nice."

The couple left without another word, and Dr. Seth sat down with a 'thump'. "That man is clearly unhinged..."

* * *

Dr. Tanin was an altogether different sort of man than Dr. Seth, and the first thing he did upon opening the door of his clinic and seeing the stern father, the distraught young mother, and their wailing infant, was draw them in and pull up some chairs. "Sit down, my dear. Shut the door behind you, sir. Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

Cori was so relieved to be welcomed in instead of being treated like an inconvenience that she went to pieces and couldn't speak. Dr. Tanin passed her a handkerchief and turned to Fergus. "Why don't you catch me up while I give this little fellow a look-over?"

Fergus liked this new doctor already. "We were told it was colic, but nothing we were told to do seems to help."

"Have you tried a warm bath?" asked Dr. Tanin as he checked little Roy's vital signs.

Cori sniffled as she began to calm down. "We've tried everything. Dr. Seth wouldn't even listen to me..."

"Oh, _him._ Several former patients of his have complained to me about him. Bit of a stuffed shirt, from what I hear, though it's rather unprofessional of me to say so." The Doctor rolled his eyes, then frowned when the infant spit up and grew even more upset. "Ohh, I know, little man...Not fun, huh? Does that happen often?"

Both parents nodded, and Cori added, "It's always a few minutes to an hour after he eats."

After listening to their questions and asking a few of his own, Dr. Tanin nodded and asked them one more thing. "How do you normally hold him after he eats? Like this, on his back?"

"Yes," Cori nodded, still sniffling a little.

"Hm. Well, I have to concur with Dr. Seth; your son does indeed have colic."

Fergus wasn't sure if he wanted to tell this doctor off too, or simply sit down and admit defeat, but Dr. Tanin wasn't finished.

"_And _a moderate case of reflux. And what that means is, when he eats, the part of his stomach that holds his feed down is letting a little bit come back up again, and this is what causes him to spit up." He paused to allow the new parents to take this in.

"Does it hurt him?" asked Cori, on the verge of tears again. Baby Roy, for his part, had finally exhausted himself and fallen into a fitful sleep with his chin resting on the doctor's shoulder.

"It _does_ cause some discomfort, I'm afraid, but he should grow out of it within the year. His digestive system is still maturing, you see." Dr. Tanin explained, "Just keep doing what you're doing for the colic. Try giving him smaller, more frequent feeds. And try holding him upright instead."

Cori sighed as her husband put an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder. "_Thank _you. For actually _listening _to us. Dr. Seth was just awful..."

Dr. Tanin looked disdainful at the mention of the other doctor's name. "These young bucks all think they have something to prove. Maybe time and experience will knock him down from his perch."

Fergus chuckled; he knew who they would be taking their son to from now on!

* * *

On November twenty-eighth, a sullen-looking Elf watched as the Head Elf followed Santa into the study. He rubbed one of his thin black dreadlocks between his thumb and finger, wondering what exactly went on during a Council meeting, and why he, the Keeper of the Handbook, wasn't allowed in. It wasn't as if he was the low man on the totem pole, after all! As Santa's third in command, Bernard thought he deserved to at least be in the loop! It just wasn't fair.

And this meeting was an important one, too! It was the Year-End Holiday Conference, after all, and he'd heard a rumor that a new future member of the Council, the latest in line to be the Tooth Fairy, had been born in September. Would the new baby be introduced today? It was so exciting, and he was going to _miss_ it! Just because the Head Elf, Jeremy, looked more like a human teenager due to the 'age' magic of his position, that didn't mean he had the right to lord it over-

"Coming through! Oneside, Bernie!" Cupid flew over Bernard's head with a saucy salute, weaving through the gap in the closing door at the last second.

"It's _Bernard._"

Jack Frost was the next to arrive, strolling down the hall like he owned the place. "Hello, Elves! Nice day for a blizzard, isn't it? You're welcome, by the way. _Bernie, _long time no see. How're things?"

"It's-"

"Okay, okaaay, _'Bernard'. _Why are you sitting out here when you could be in there?" Jack pointed first at the bench, then at the closed door which seemed to mock the grumpy Elf.

"Because Santa's the boss, and he says so," Bernard folded his arms. Instead of reading the Handbook, he was sitting on it. The book had some very good pointers, but much of it was so outdated that he looked upon the information as 'guidelines' rather than 'law that must be obeyed at all costs'. This annoyed Jeremy, who was a stickler for the rules, and Bernard had a suspicion that he had gotten Santa to exclude him from these meetings. "Anyway, what do you care?"

"Oh, now, that hurt," Jack Frost put a hand over his frozen heart. "I won't even tell you what I know about the new arrival."

Bernard bit his lip, then called after Jack in his high-pitched childlike voice, "Hey, wait a minute!"

"Hm, I thought I heard someone calling me, but...nope! Must've been the wind." And with that, Jack Frost entered the study, and a chorus of groans met Bernard's ears as the door shut behind the Sprite.

"Gingersnaps..."

Cori, who had approached unseen with her husband and son, giggled merrily at this. "Such language."

"Oh! Sorry, Tooth Fairy, I..._oh._" Bernard blinked when he saw the bundle in her arms. So, it _was _true! "Congratulations, ma'am!"

"Now, Bernard, you _know_ I asked you to call me 'Cori'," She playfully scolded him. At her elbow, Fergus stifled a yawn. "But thank you. Would you like to see him?"

"I..._'him'?_" Bernard's thick eyebrows shot up. Then, realizing that he was being rude, he quickly recovered himself. "Sure!"

Fergus leaned in and muttered, "Dear, the meeting's about to start..." Then he threw up his hands and sighed as his wife disregarded this.

"These things always start a little late," Cori said over her shoulder as she leaned over and pulled back a corner of the blanket so that Bernard could see.

Like all of Santa's Elves, Bernard loved children, and he had a special soft spot for babies. Before their wings grew out, Fairies and humans were practically identical, so he wasn't surprised at what he saw. As he got his first look at the new Tooth Fairy, Bernard privately thought to himself that there was no doubt whatsoever about the baby's paternity. There were differences, of course; Fergus's hair was a lighter shade of brown, and it was straight. The baby had his mother's hair color, and Bernard could tell that if he let it grow out it would have a bit of a curl to it. Other than that, if someone were to show him an image of Fergus at the same age, he could easily mistake them for twins. "Can I hold him?"

Fergus stewed in the background. He wanted to get this meeting over with so that they could go home. His mother-in-law, the current Tooth Fairy, was laid up, hence the reason why they had come in her stead, and his wife should be asleep so that she could safely make her rounds. This delay irked him.

"Of course. In fact, would you be so good as to watch him for a little while? He's been a bit fussy, and I don't know how long we'll be," Cori passed her son over to Bernard, who held the newborn in an expert grip. The baby jumped a little as he was passed from one set of arms to the other, but feeling secure he didn't quite wake up.

"Sure! We'll be fine out here, won't we, Sport?" Bernard grinned as he sat back down on the bench.

Fergus raised an eyebrow. "'Sport'?"

* * *

Mother Nature and Father Time waited patiently for the last member of the Council to arrive so that they could begin. Although most of them didn't know it yet, this was a time of both joy and sadness; a new life had come into the world, and would soon be brought before the Council to be recognized, but one of their number was soon to be leaving.

The current Santa, a quiet man who didn't have much in the way of a sense of humor, spoke in undertones with Jeremy while the rest of the Council got settled.

Sandman snoozed by the fireplace. He worked hard all night long, so for now Mother Nature let him sleep.

The Easter Bunny preened her long black ears, doing her best to ignore Jack Frost's entrance, but she lost that battle when the Winter Sprite did a double-take and stared at her expanding middle.

"_Again, _Easter Bunny? How many heirs to the 'bunny throne' do you _need?_"

"How dare you!" The heavily pregnant rabbit struggled to her feet and threw a dyed egg at Jack, missing him by a mile; her eyesight wasn't very good, and she refused to wear spectacles. Unfortunately, the egg hit Cupid right between the eyes, knocking off his crown of golden laurel leaves. As small as he was, the blow sent him spiraling to the floor.

"Wh...'Ey!"

Easter Bunny covered her twitching nose with her paws and quickly sat back down again. "Ooh, I'm so sorry, Cupid!"

Jack wagged a finger at her. "And well you _should _be."

Mother Nature's gavel came down with a sharp 'CRACK', and Sandman snorted awake. "Jack!"

Jack wisely moved off and sat down.

Then the door opened, and Cori-Tooth Fairy-walked in with her husband, who was largely ignored by half of the people in the room. Not that he minded; these affairs had never interested him. Pleasantries were exchanged, and Mother Nature got things started.

"Very well, then, I now convene the Year-End Holiday Conference," She tapped the gavel on the block, and she looked more serious than usual. "And this year it's a somber occasion; Santa has an announcement to make."

Santa got to his feet and cleared his throat; Jeremy, his Head Elf, looked down at the floor. "Thank you, Mother Nature, and thank all of you for coming. I'm sorry to say that this will be my last meeting with you all."

"What?" Cori leaned forward as if she hadn't heard him correctly.

"I'm afraid so, Tooth Fairy. I've been Santa Claus for a long time. My wife and I have watched from afar as our children grew up and had families of their own, but we never could be a part of it. We've outlived all three of them, and our last great-grandchild has just become engaged to be married. Mrs. Claus and I...we're very tired. And so, I've hand-picked my successor, although he doesn't know it yet."

The Easter Bunny, already emotional from her pregnancy, was crying into a handful of the grass she'd used to line her basket. If it wasn't for her black fur, she would have ended up with grass stains. Sandman awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, but he had been through this many times before. Occasionally, he would become close friends with one of the more transient members of the Council, but he hadn't had much to do with this particular Santa.

Father Time sighed as he leaned on his staff. "And this is really what you want?"

Santa nodded. "It's what _we _want. I don't think humans were ever meant to live beyond a human lifespan. Not when we have to leave the ones we love behind, watching them grow old and die while we remain."

Mother Nature and Father Time exchanged a sorrowful look, and Father time stroked his beard. "So be it. But we'll miss you."

Fergus heard his wife sniffle, and he laid a hand on her shoulder without a word. Almost as if in answer to this, a baby started crying just outside the door, drawing everyone's attention. Mother Nature, who knew about the baby's existence, simply smiled and addressed the couple.

"And with that, I believe our next order of business has asserted themself. Tooth Fairy, do you have anything to add?" Mother Nature had a twinkle in her eye.

Cori wiped away a tear and smiled back. "I do. That is, _we_ do. Our child was born on September the twentieth."

Easter Bunny screamed and seized her in a tight embrace, causing Fergus to look at her as if she were insane, and there was a round of congratulations from everyone except for Jack Frost and Cupid. Jack didn't care at all, and Cupid simply made a noise of acknowledgement and gave a nod.

There was a knock at the door, and they heard Bernard clear his throat and raise his voice to be heard over the cries. "Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt, but the kid just threw up on me."

"Oh, dear..." Cori put a hand over her face as she got up to retrieve her son and apologize. "I'm so sorry, Bernard. I forgot to tell you, he has reflux. I should have showed you how to hold him so that wouldn't happen..."

Bernard didn't look too upset by it as he handed over the fussy infant. "Oh, don't worry about it. That's happened to me before. I just want to go clean up."

"Of course," Cori took the baby and watched Bernard leave. Behind her, you could hear a pin drop.

Then, as one, everyone but Mother Nature chorused, "_'He'?_"

Cori patted her son on the back as he hiccupped to an uncertain stop, and nodded. "I know, it surprised us too. But here he is."

"Ooh, let me see, let me see!" Easter Bunny hopped over for a better look.

Roy couldn't support his head very well yet, but he managed to turn it enough to look for the source of the voice. The face that loomed in front of him caused his eyes to widen, and he simply _stared._

"Do you want to come see me?" Easter Bunny held out her arms, but Roy was now looking around the room at everyone else.

A human baby's vision would still be blurry, only being able to make out vague shapes and colors unless the face or object was close, but he had no trouble making out the details. His expression said it as plain as any words could; _who __**are**__ these people?_

Cori passed him over to the Easter Bunny-an experienced mother herself-and when the Easter Bunny finished cooing over the new arrival she handed him over to Mother Nature.

"Ohhh, look at this angel...Look at all that _hair!_" The Nature Goddess looped a tiny curl around her pinkie finger, beaming down at him before smiling at the parents. "He looks like you, Fergus."

Fergus gave an unenthusiastic nod, which his wife noticed but didn't mention. This got Mother Nature's attention as well, but she kept it to herself for the time being.

The men were less inclined to fuss over someone they would most likely have as a co-worker, but all in all the new arrival was well received and seemed happy enough to be held by Mother Nature.

Cupid folded his arms and smirked at Cori. "You know, I remember when _your _mother introduced _you._ You bopped Sandy here on the snoot."

Sandman stifled a yawn. "_I_ remember that, too. I wonder if he'll have your right hook."

"I don't know about _that, _but he can kick!" She laughed.

When the meeting came to a close and everyone began to leave, Mother Nature called after the Fairies. "Oh, Tooth Fairy? Can I have a word with you and Fergus?"

The husband and wife were confused, but they doubled back to see what Mother Nature wanted.

"What is it, Mother Nature?" Cori asked while Fergus remained tight-lipped.

"First of all, congratulations. Although I did notice some trepidation on your part, Fergus. Is everything all right?

Fergus quirked the corner of his mouth in slight annoyance; he'd thought he hid it well. "Everything's fine."

Mother Nature nodded, but Cori contradicted her husband.

"Actually...we _are_ a little bit concerned. I remember being teased about my name growing up, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. And Fergus..." She looked at Fergus as if asking permission, but he merely crossed his arms and stayed silent; not forbidding her, but clearly not happy either. "We _both _got teased, actually. But the baby...His wings are smaller than usual."

"Oh, I see..." Mother Nature gently laid her palm on Roy's head, and the baby smiled. The poor child had no idea of the hard times he was likely to face, both growing up and as an adult. For now, though, he seemed happy enough, and it was clear to Mother Nature that his parents adored him. Fergus had his own way of showing it, but it the love was there just the same, as it should be. "But he'll have something the other Fairy children _won't_ have."

"What's that?" They asked.

"A seat on the Council. And he is most welcome."


	3. Chapter 3: Standing His Ground

"It's A Boy"

_Note:__ Cori's mother comes over to visit with her daughter and grandson. Fergus spies an unwelcome visitor approaching his house while working outside, and he rushes to intercept. There is a reason why he's so reserved! Trigger warning for mention of past abuse._

"Chapter 3: Standing His Ground"

1501

It hardly surprised Fergus when he opened his front door to head out for work, only to find his mother-in-law standing just outside with one fist raised to knock. He often wished she wouldn't drop by unannounced. It used to bother him a lot more early on, because he was not a man who liked unexpected visitors, but he had never confronted her about it and was used to it by now. She was a dear lady, and had always been very kind to him, so he kept his silence on the matter.

"Oh!" She pulled back her hand, then chuckled apologetically. "Good morning. I was hoping to speak with my daughter and visit with the baby before I go home to rest for the day."

From inside came the irritated squawk of a very bored Fairy infant.

"Morning," Fergus gave a rare smile and stood aside to let her in. "She's inside, trying to keep Himself entertained. Now that he's crawling, he's getting into everything."

Cori's voice reached them from the kitchen. "No-no, darling, that's hot."

This was immediately followed by the ear-splitting wail of a baby who had not gotten his way.

Fergus hunched his shoulders and made a slight face, and when his mother-in-law giggled and gave a muttered 'oh my', he nodded his head. "He's fascinated by the fireplace. And on that note, Mother, I bid you good day."

The Tooth Fairy nodded back, watching her son-in-law leave (or flee) the house to begin his work day. _Always so stiff and reserved...but thank Titania he's nothing like his father!_

Why she thought of Fergus's father at that moment, she had no idea, but the day's events would leave her wondering if she had been given a flash of foresight.

* * *

Fergus, who was a tanner by trade, did his work far from his home to keep the unpleasantness away from his wife and son. Cleaning and preparing hides to make leather was a smelly job, but it put food on the table, and he considered it to be an honest living. And, thankfully, Fairy soap was enhanced with magic to make it more effective than anything the humans of this era were using. After a dip in the nearby stream and a change of clothing, he came home every night smelling faintly of sandalwood. And every night, his beautiful wife was there to greet him.

From where he worked, Fergus could see his small cottage in the distance, but only because he knew what to look for. The home he shared with his wife and baby had been built into a hillside, and if it wasn't for the smoke that billowed up from the concealed chimney, even _he_ would have had trouble spotting it immediately. He glanced in that direction for a moment as he scraped the fur from a deer skin.

He _really_ didn't know what Cori saw in him. When he first met her, he thought she was the most beautiful creature on two wings, but he had given her no indication that he was interested. And why should she have given _him_ the time of day? He wasn't _nice._ He wasn't _friendly._ He loathed society, and spent most of his time by himself. So, it came as quite a surprise when she marched right up to him ten years ago and introduced herself.

Fergus knew who she was, of course. The Tooth Fairy bloodline was well known, and this was the daughter of the current Tooth Fairy, but she had introduced herself as 'Cori'. And she had never told him why she approached him that day, nor had he asked her. He was simply glad that she _had_.

And now, ten years later, they were married and had a child. They were happy...mostly. But there were little things that made him, in his eyes, 'defective'. Nearly all Fairies _enjoyed_ having their wings touched, as long as it was by someone they loved and trusted. It was soothing, in a way, and could sometimes promote better sleep. He _didn't_ like having his wings touched. _At all. _Not even by Cori. And she respected his wishes and avoided them.

One of his father's favorite punishments when he was young was to grab a wing and twist, and such a thing would cause agonizing pain to _any _Fairy, even if the person doing the twisting stopped before the point of causing physical damage, which his father usually did. _Usually._ Fergus had learned very early on that if he gave in to tears, whether they were tears of the physical or the emotional, the damage would be much more severe. As such, he had trained himself to be as unemotional as possible, to the point where he now had trouble showing emotions even when he _wanted_ to.

_Cori_ had reached him. For whatever reason, she had approached him and persisted until she had gotten to know him, and for that he would always be grateful.

Still...

Sometimes there were nights when he would get caught up in staring at the glowing coals of the fire, and she would have to call his name a few times before he would hear it and respond. There were nights when he would sit bolt-upright in a cold sweat, with no memory of what he had dreamt about, and she would reach out in her sleep and pat his arm.

There were times when he would get blindingly angry for seemingly no reason at all, and _these _were the times when he got very still and silent. When this happened, it was always brought on by the smell of pipe tobacco and liquor. For this reason, he avoided the taverns at all costs, but all it took was passing someone on the street and catching a whiff of where they had been. And his mind would call up the image of a huge, drunken Fairy who smoked a pipe and beat his son just because he _could. _

The man who made his son sleep in the stable, because that was where 'animals' belonged.

The man with a heart of stone.

His father.

Fergus hadn't seen his father in fifteen years, and he didn't care if he never saw him again. So, when he saw a familiar shape flying in the direction of his house, Fergus dropped the skin he was cleaning and stood rooted to the spot in disbelief. _How did he find out where I live?_

Then he was winging it back to his house, desperate to keep his father from darkening his doorstep and entering his family's life.

* * *

Fergus swerved in front of his father in mid-air, holding up his hands in a motion that clearly meant 'stop'. And, miraculously, his father did. "That's as far as you go, Brandel."

Aside from the large red wings they both possessed, there were almost no similarities between father and son. Fergus was large and stocky, but most of his bulk was in his width; he topped out at six feet tall. Brandel was six-foot-seven, and while he had put on a lot of weight, particularly around the middle, he was still just as muscular as ever, and his green eyes were as cold as the North Pole. Brandel's hair had been shaved down to the pate, possibly because of lice, but this was only speculation on Fergus's part, for the man was certainly dirty. And he was _definitely_ drunk.

"Is that any way to address your father, boy?" Brandel smiled as he hovered in front of Fergus.

"Why are you here?" Fergus asked coldly. Brandel looked beyond Fergus, looked down at the cottage, and Fergus moved to block his line of sight and glared; he was in no mood for this, nor would he ever be. "Answer me! Why are you here?"

"I'm here to see my grandson!" Brandel grinned in an effort to seem friendly. "I was offended that I never received a birth announcement, or even an invitation to my own son's wedding, but I'm willing to let that go..."

The implication was clear; he would only let it go if he was allowed to enter that house and little Roy's life. Fergus saw _red._ "No."

Brandel slowly tilted his head as if he couldn't believe his ears, and demanded, "_No?_"

Fergus's emotional training served him well as he confronted the man who had made his life a living hell. "You're not welcome here. Leave my property at once."

Brandel hovered closer.

Fergus did not back down.

"Who do you think you're talking to, boy?" Brandel sneered. "_I_ am your _father._ I have the _right_ to see my grandson."

"It's not a right, it's a privilege. One that I haven't extended, nor will I ever. You're not going anywhere _near_ him. You're not going anywhere near my wife. You're not welcome in our lives. Now _go!_" Fergus fluttered forward a few feet, and his fists began to glow bright red. "Before I _make_ you."

For a drunken man approaching old age, Brandel was _fast._ He zipped around Fergus and dove towards the cottage, with no solid plan other than to get his way and see his grandson, but Fergus was hot on his heels.

Fergus snagged the first thing he could reach, and found himself holding one of his father's wings.

_Justice!_

Or not. Brandel went rigid, as Fairies do when someone holds on to one of their wings, and when his wings stopped flapping he began to fall. His weight dragged Fergus down along with him.

As much as he hated him, Fergus didn't want to kill his father. A Fairy's life force was tied directly to his or her wings, and Fergus let go of Brandel before following him down as he spiraled towards the ground.

While Brandel knelt, panting, on the ground, Fergus landed between him and the cottage. "Doesn't feel too good, _does_ it, you old bastard?"

The next thing Fergus knew, he was rolling in the dirt and wondering how his father could still move fast enough to catch him by surprise. The next few minutes were a blur, but at some point Cori and her mother had come out, and between the three of them they managed to put up enough of a fight to drive Brandel off.

Cori's mother shook her fist at Brandel's retreating form. "_Mother Nature _will hear about this! Just you wait!"

Cori took out a handkerchief to staunch Fergus's nosebleed. "Oh darling, your _nose_ is broken...Come inside!"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Fergus mumbled, trying to combine the two images of Cori into one. Stupid double vision. Then he grabbed onto her shoulders. "Where's the baby?"

"He's inside, he's in his cradle," Cori put her arm around his waist and draped his arm over her shoulders. "Come inside. We need to set your broken nose."

Fergus raised an eyebrow, then did it himself. "No, we don't."

He went in with them anyway. The nosebleed stopped after a few minutes, and he sat by Roy's cradle and stared at his sleeping son. He reached down with the hand that wasn't bloody, and gently cupped the crown of his son's head in his palm. His boy...His sweet, innocent little boy. "He wanted to see the baby...but by Titania, I'll be _damned _if I ever let that happen."

Tooth Fairy watched as her daughter tended to Fergus's injuries, and her heart went out to him. "That coward won't be back today, but I'm not so sure about tonight. The two of you will come and live with me until we can settle the matter."

Cori blinked up at her mother. "And how will we do that?"

Tooth Fairy's smile was almost as chilling as Brandel's had been, but for a different reason. Brandel had threatened her family, and she meant to fight this. "I will inform Mother Nature. A threat to any member of the Council is a very serious thing indeed. And this baby _is_ a future member of the Council."

"No," Fergus shook his head. "I won't be driven from my home. If he comes tonight, or any other night, I'll be ready."

Tooth Fairy approached, and sat down at the other side of the cradle. "What is more important, Fergus? Your pride, or your son?"

Fergus had no answer for that, but the way he gently stroked his son's dark brown hair spoke volumes. And he was listening.

"This is only temporary. A tactical retreat, if you will. Brandel may be counting on you staying here. Or he may have left for good. But how can you possibly know?" Tooth Fairy shook her head. "This is _bigger_ than your ego. Take your family, and come and live with me. Just for now. _Please._"

Roy stirred a little in his cradle, rubbing his eye with an uncoordinated little fist, and sighed as he slumbered on.

Cori put her hand on her husband's arm and gazed up at him, imploringly.

Fergus finally nodded. "All right...We better pack a few things. Thank you, Mother."

And, really, Tooth Fairy had been almost like a mother to him from the moment he began courting her daughter. With no natural mother to raise him and an abusive father, it was a wonder that Fergus grew up to be as normal as he was.

And so, Fergus and his family moved in with the Tooth Fairy.


	4. Chapter 4: Moving In With Mom

"It's A Boy"

_Notes:__ Brandel evades capture for the time being, and Fergus is not happy about it. Mother Nature has a plan, but for now things are at a standstill. Baby Roy does cute baby things. Cori sees in her husband what most people don't see. Hope you enjoy it!_

"Chapter 4: Moving In With Mom"

1511, Same Day

Brandel landed near a discarded deer skin and kicked it aside as he lumbered unsteadily towards the stream to dunk his head and drink. The surprise beating had served to sober him up halfway, and the cold, clean water did the rest. _Who knew that two tiny women could put up such a fight? And using magic against another Fairy is against the rules, too..._

And yet, he knew that _he _had broken the rules by physically accosting his son. As much as he considered Fergus to be an extension of himself, and therefore _his,_ the facts were clear; he knew he had trespassed. It was true that Fergus had gotten physical first, grabbing Brandel by the wing and causing him to seize up and nearly go into a free fall, but given the circumstances, the law would be on Fergus's side. Fergus had acted in defense of his family; Brandel posed a legitimate threat.

What _had _Brandel been planning to do? He asked himself this question now, and even _he_ didn't know. He hadn't thought this through at all! In fact, knowing Fergus would be away for the day, he hadn't even planned on running into him. The young wife would open the door, he would talk his way in, and...then what? Kidnap the boy? Brandel was getting old, and he had no use for babies. They couldn't do any yard work, or take care of him; in fact, it would be _Brandel _who would be obliged to care for..._whatever_ they'd named the brat.

Brandel looked back the way he had come as something occurred to him, something that, up until now, had seemed very unimportant. _That girl he married...She's the Tooth Fairy's daughter, and bound to be the next Tooth Fairy after her mother croaks. That baby is the next Tooth Fairy after __**her. **__A future Legendary Figure. Which means that Mother Nature will be all over this faster'n you can slap a mosquito!_

For all he knew, she was on her way there now. For all her reputed kindness, Mother Nature was _not _someone to be crossed! Brandel straightened and fluttered his wings to make sure he was still airworthy. The left one was a bit sore; Fergus had given it quite a twist. Still, he ascended without an issue and flew away. As he flew, his form shimmered and grew transparent until his passage overhead resembled nothing more than a bit of heat distortion. His magic, which was strong and robust despite his age and his love of drink, grew unnoticeable to those who were sensitive to such things.

For the time being, Brandel withdrew.

* * *

The Tooth Fairy's small cottage was built inside the hollow trunk of an enormous tree, as many other Fairy dwellings were. Unlike the humans, who preferred to mold the land and its features to suit their own needs and wants, Fairies preferred to work _with _nature, gaining permission from the spirit of the tree before any construction took place. If the tree's answer was yes, then it was just a matter of using magic to alter the tree without harming it; the Fairy now had a place to live, and the tree had someone to prune back the dead branches and keep an eye out for the ailments that typically affected them, such as fungus or blight.

Fergus sat on a chair in his mother-in-law's living room, and if his posture was anything to go by, his mood was one of defeat. Cori applied a strong-smelling paste to a cut on his forehead, and although it stung he didn't so much as flinch. He kept his eyes on Roy, who sat on the floor at his feet and played with his boot laces.

Cori did a double-take when she noticed this. "Fergus, you forgot to take your shoes off. Look, you've tracked dirt inside. Roy, no-no, that's dirty."

Fergus picked up his son (the boy squealed in displeasure, then quieted down when his father bounced him on his knee) and saw that his clodhoppers had indeed left a trail of footprints that led right to his chair. "Here, you take him. I'll clean it up."

Tooth Fairy, who had just emerged from her kitchen, put a hand on his shoulder and forced him back down when he began to stand. "You'll do nothing of the sort. Wooden floors are easy to clean. But give me your boots, and I'll put them by the door."

Fergus knew better than to argue. He unlaced his boots, (well, _boot; _Roy had managed to untie one of them somehow) and handed them over.

"Mother Nature is on her way," Tooth Fairy told him as she put his boots off to the side and went to get a broom. "She had to finish a few things before she could come, but she'll be here soon."

Fergus simply nodded.

When Mother Nature appeared in the middle of the room without so much as a whisper of warning, they all jumped. Roy seemed to recognize her, because instead of bursting into tears as most babies would do upon being startled, he crowed happily and pointed. Here was the nice lady with the pretty 'hat'!

Mother Nature smiled at him, then gasped at the sight of Fergus's face. One of the man's eyes was swelling shut, both of them were turning black, and his nose had clearly been broken. There was a cut on his forehead, possibly from a ring Brandel was wearing, or maybe from hitting his head on a rock when he fell. Either way, he was lucky not to need stitches. "Oh my...And your _father _did this?"

Fergus snorted, then immediately regretted it. He held his nose for a moment, then replied, "If you mean Brandel, the waste of flesh who begat me, then yes."

Cori covered Roy's ears and frowned, then put Roy down with the few toys they'd managed to gather in their haste to leave and turned to Mother Nature. "He was demanding to see the baby. I don't know what he would have done if he'd gotten in."

"I don't think _he _did either." Tooth Fairy folded her arms. "The man was clearly intoxicated. You could smell it on him. When Fergus tried to bar him from entering the house, they came to blows. It took the three of us to drive him away. Mother Nature, something _must _be done. Even if this wasn't my own grandson, no child should be exposed to that."

Mother Nature nodded firmly. "I quite agree. Brandel must _not_ be allowed any sort of contact with this child."

Fergus nodded, looking like he wanted to be hopeful, but he knew his father. "Well, he won't give up, now that he knows about the baby. What is to be done?"

Mother Nature tilted her head and appeared to be listening, and all was silent for a few moments. Fergus began to grow impatient. Roy, oblivious to what the 'boring grown-ups' were talking about, was blowing raspberries as he tried to insert his rattle into his belly button.

Finally, Mother Nature shook her head. "I can't sense him anywhere. He must be masking his magical signature."

"You can't find some way around it?" Fergus slightly raised his voice, but he still spoke well below a yell.

"No," Mother Nature folded her hands. "From the time of the beginning, I gave certain races the ability to cloak themselves for safety purposes. I'm obliged to bring Brandel to justice when he shows himself, but I cannot break my own rule."

"The magical bureaucracy..." Fergus muttered in disgust.

Mother Nature gave him a hard stare, but she let this slide. Allowances could be made for a frightened husband and father who wanted only the safety of his family.

Luckily, Fergus saw the look and took the unspoken warning. He didn't apologize, but he lowered his head for a moment, and in Fergus-speak that meant roughly the same thing. "So, our only course of action is to wait until he tries something?"

"I understand your concern, Fergus, but-"

Fergus cut her off. "Meaning no disrespect, but no, you don't. You understand _rules _and _procedure, _but maybe the rules aren't always right."

Cori, afraid that her husband would get himself in trouble, tugged on his elbow. "Fergus, please!"

Tooth Fairy simply watched this exchange, understanding exactly where Fergus was coming from. She was immovable in regards to the Tooth Fairy name, but other than that, she had never cared for many of the rules they had to follow.

Fergus rolled his eyes. "What will she do to me? I don't agree with her, but she's not Brandel. I have the right to speak, do I not?" He looked to Mother Nature for confirmation.

"You do," She agreed.

_Now _Fergus was almost yelling; he couldn't help it. "Then _tell_ me what I should do! How can I keep my family safe? How can I keep him from going for either of _them _when they leave for their rounds?" He said 'they' because Cori occasionally had to fill in for her mother. Tooth Fairy was a feisty lady, but at this point it was only a matter of time.

The Nature Goddess never lost her outward sense of calm. "Effectively immediately, this property is under my protection. Brandel can't cross the border."

"And if we leave?" Fergus pressed.

Roy looked up at them, his attention drawn by his father's angry voice, and he looked more surprised than anything else. He offered Fergus his rattle, but Fergus didn't see it, and he scowled and hit his father's leg with it. "Bah!"

Fergus looked down and dutifully reached for the rattle, but Roy pulled it back and giggled, scooting away on his bottom. The corner of Fergus's mouth twitched in a way that suggested a smile.

Mother Nature smiled as she watched this. "The baby can't go far, for the time being. My hope is that Brandel will show up, stay in the area long enough to try to find a way in, and be caught. Send a thought my way, and I can be here in an instant."

Cori nodded, but she was still frightened. "What about Mother? She can't fly very strongly, not after her illness. What if he goes after her while she's away?"

Tooth Fairy quirked an eyebrow. "I'm right here, daughter. And I'm not as weak as all that. I've got some tricks of my own, as the two of you saw today!"

Mother Nature kept her amusement in check. "Still, I would advise caution." Roy crawled over to her, rattle in hand, and proudly showed it to her. She smiled and leaned down to see. "Oh, what's this? Is that yours?"

"Ah!" Roy held out the toy, then pulled it back to his chest when Mother Nature reached for it. He grinned impishly, showing off his two new bottom teeth as the adults (even Fergus) had a quiet laugh over this.

"His new favorite game is keep-away," Fergus explained.

Mother Nature chuckled and picked Roy up, and she caught the rattle as he dropped it so that he could inspect her headdress. She patiently allowed this, and steered the subject back to the matter at hand. "When he _is _caught, he will be permanently banished from the Fairy town.

Fergus was dissatisfied with this. "Making him the humans' problem..."

"I didn't realize you held such a soft spot for humans," Mother Nature commented in a subtle tone that hinted that she knew exactly how he felt about that particular race.

"No more I do, but I wouldn't loose my father on a _dog _I liked."

"That's...almost commendable of you," Mother Nature put Roy down. The baby made a questioning noise, then immediately began to cry, his feelings hurt by this sudden 'rejection'. Mother Nature picked him back up again, bouncing him lightly and shushing him. "All right, all right...My goodness, what a fuss. I think someone's tired."

Roy quieted down, but retained his pout. His nap had been interrupted, which always put his mood on a hair trigger. He shook his head 'no' at the word 'tired'. He couldn't speak yet, but he could understand some of what he heard, and he absolutely did _not _want to go to bed!

"For the time being," Mother Nature continued, "this is the best we can do. It'll be all right, Fergus."

"So, how long will we have to live off my mother-in-law?"

Tooth Fairy, who was one of the few people who could get away with scolding Fergus and not getting a scathing rebuttal in return, gave her wings an indignant flick. "Fergus, _hush. _You're family, and this is temporary. Don't insult an old lady's hospitality."

Fergus looked at her as if he were thinking of snapping anyway, but then he sighed. Tooth Fairy didn't look old, nor did she look young. If a human were to try and guess her age, they would be hard pressed to do so, but many would say that she looked like she could be anywhere between forty and sixty. Certainly not older or younger than that. The magic of her job had aged her up, and then it had essentially kept her frozen in time. Still, she was his mother-in-law, and it was very good of her to allow them to stay with her. She was right; he was being rude. "I'm sorry. My father's sudden appearance...I never thought I'd have to see him again."

Mother Nature nodded. "And with good fortune, you will only have to see him one last time."

Tooth Fairy patted his arm and went to take the baby from Mother Nature. Roy went to her easily enough, rubbing his eyes and looking grumpy; he _was _tired, but he was fighting it. "I'll just put this little one down for an...N-A-P." She lowered her voice as she spelled it out. No one needed an explanation for that one!

Roy glared at his grandmother and said, very clearly, "_No!_"

Mother Nature put a hand over her mouth to hide a smile. "And so it begins."

"Might've known his first word would be 'no'," Fergus grinned. "Time to start censoring myself."

* * *

That night, long after Tooth Fairy had left for work and Roy had been put to bed, Fergus stood at the guest room window and stared up at the crescent moon. Behind him, Cori got ready for bed, but he simply couldn't relax.

_I'm afraid..._

Fergus realized this, and he hated such weakness in himself. He was good at hiding it, especially after so much time and practice, but if growing up in that man's house had taught him anything, it was this; tears were a sign of weakness. Anger was power. Stoicism was strength. And hiding was the epitome of cowardice. And yet...

And yet!

Fergus was _powerless_ in his anger, to the point where his eyes began to sting with the tears that wanted to gather but wouldn't. He had trained himself too well for that, and this skill that had served him well in the past now left him feeling like a hot coal resided in his chest, with no outlet. Tears made one a target...but weren't they a target either way? If hiding was cowardice, hadn't he been hiding from his father for years? And wasn't his father hiding from them now?

_I don't like the moon tonight._

Cori, who had just donned a linen nightgown, called to him. "Fergus, come away from the window."

Fergus gave his large wings a bit of a flutter, the breeze from them lightly stirring the lace curtains. "I was just admiring the moon. And then I thought to myself, it looks like a cruel smile. If he's not here to stand over me and leer...why, the moon does it in his stead."

Cori came over to him and looked up at the moon. "Is that how you see it?"

He turned to his wife. "What other way is there?"

"Well..." Cori rested her hands on the window sill and looked up at the bright slash that hung in the night sky. "It looks more like a clipped fingernail to me."

Fergus made a slight face. "What?"

She looked back at him and smiled. "Oh, yes. Or it could resemble a curl of hair, like the ones at the back of Roy's neck. Or your _own_ smile, when someone tells a terrible joke."

The corner of his mouth quirked, but he fought the smile. "Define terrible."

Cori gave him a wry look and put a hand on her hip. "How about this; 'If you can think of a better fish pun, let _minnow_'."

_That one _nearly got him, but laughing would have pained his broken nose, and he remembered in time. He smiled, and gently caressed her cheek. "What did I do to deserve you?"

She put her hand over his and stepped closer. "Many things. And when I asked you to call me 'Cori', you never once questioned it."

Fergus shook his head and lowered his hand. "But I'm not _good._ I...I wish I was, and I try to be, but...like it or not, I'm my father's son. And I'm trying to be a better father than he was, but Roy's still so young, and it didn't start with _me _until I was..._Oberon's Teeth,_ Cori, what if I end up hurting _him?_"

Cori could see the pain in his eyes, pain he never quite let reach the surface. She knew going into this marriage that there were parts of her husband's mind that she could see but never touch, much like his off-limits wings. She tried to reach him just the same. "You _are_ good. His actions left you with scars, but they don't define you. I've seen you return baby birds to their nests. You gave a homeless human your shoes once. Yes, I saw that. It's the reason why I introduced myself back then; I wanted to know you. And you've always been so gentle with me, and now with Roy."

Fergus didn't know what to do with this. "But you don't know what I almost did today."

"Yes, I do," Cori lowered her voice, as if Roy might overhear and understand this from his crib in the adjacent room. "I saw the look on your face today. It wasn't difficult to guess. But you let him live."

Fergus looked down. "I couldn't...even after what he's done..."

"I know," She nodded. "And I think I would have thought differently of you if you _had. _We're all made up of good and evil, Fergus. You chose to shun the evil part of you. _He_ embraced it. You chose right, and you can _still _choose right. You're not him. And he doesn't matter now. He can't come in. We're safe, and our son is safe. That's all that matters."

Fergus lightly kissed her forehead, then sighed and looked up at the moon. It didn't look so forbidding now. "Come, let's get some sleep while we can."

"All right," Cori agreed, and they got into bed and shared a goodnight kiss. Fergus held eye contact with her when it ended, and his heart quickened in his chest.

It had been a long time.

Roy was asleep. They were alone. They'd had one hell of a scare that day, but aside from his bruises and broken nose they were unharmed. Mother Nature had a solid plan, and they were safe for the moment. What he needed now, what _they _needed, was closeness. Cori nodded, and they shared an even deeper kiss. Sleep could wait.


	5. Chapter 5: Small Changes

"It's A Boy"

_Note:__ Roy spends time with Dad, and his wings grow out. Brandel is nowhere to be found. Hopefully I'm not too clinical in my description of how Fairy wings work. For future reference, Fairies (in these stories, anyway) reach adulthood at about 100 years of age, and then their aging slows down drastically. Updates for this and "A Strange Bond" will be very slow for a while, I think. Life got busy! _

"Chapter 5: Small Changes"

1512, March

Fairies might have looked an awful lot like winged humans, but they most certainly were not. As with human children, Fairy children had both growth spurts and periods of time where not much seemed to change at all. For Fairies, aging came to an abrupt halt at around the end of the baby's first year, and for the next year and a half they remained physically the same while their minds continued to expand.

Aside from his early bout of reflux, and aside from the fact that his first word had been 'no', Roy was generally a cheerful, pleasant baby. There were tantrums, of course; all children had them. Still, he was never put out for long. He _was_ puzzled by his father's strange reticence when compared to his doting grandmother and loving mother, but Fergus still made him feel safe, and he loved to watch him work.

Fergus often brought him along when there was work to be done in the yard, since his grandmother (and sometimes his mother) slept during the day; babies weren't the quietest of people. And, since Fergus had had to abandon his work as a tanner, he found some purpose in showing his son how things were done and why.

It fascinated Roy to no end when Fergus, holding him in the crook of his arm, would flutter up with a pair of shears to clip away the dead twigs on the big 'tree house'. Fergus would explain what he was doing, telling him that he might have to do this himself one day. "And we _never_ cut the sticks that have leaves on them."

Roy was more interested in watching the sticks and twigs drop down to the ground than he was in what his father was saying. For some reason, the sight of them falling to the grass struck him as funny, but at Fergus's last statement he stopped giggling and looked up. In terms of speech and general intelligence, Fairy babies tended to learn at a much faster rate than human babies, and in this Roy was no exception. "Why?"

_Snip, snip._

"Because they're still growing. Cutting them off hurts the tree. We cut the _gray_ ones. That doesn't hurt the tree at all, and helps it grow better. Here," Fergus hung the shears on the stub of a broken branch that jutted outward from the tree trunk and snapped off a dead twig for Roy to inspect. "Feel how dry that is."

Roy stuck out a finger and poked at it. He frowned. "Why dry?"

'_Because it's dead_' was the answer, but Fergus didn't want to get into _that_ conversation today, and so he simplified it a little. "Because the tree is finished with it."

"Why?"

"Because." Fergus dropped the twig, and tightened his grip on Roy in case the child lunged to grab it. He didn't.

Roy stuck his finger in his own nose and asked in a toddler's lisp, "'Cause why?"

Fergus automatically corrected this action by lightly pushing Roy's hand back down. "Just because. Here, look. See this twig with the leaves?"

Roy nodded.

"When they do _this,_" Fergus gently pushed down on the twig, and it bent instead of breaking. "that means we don't cut it."

Roy stuck his thumb in his mouth and said nothing.

"Do you understand?" Fergus asked, thinking he had made things perfectly clear, and feeling quite pleased with his teaching effort. His face fell when Roy merely sucked his thumb and blinked at him. "Hm. Maybe that's a lesson for another day. Here, get your thumb out of your mouth before your grandmother sees it and has a fit. You'll throw your bite off."

Roy didn't know what 'throw your bite off' meant, but he knew that mouths were not detachable, and even though it wasn't in his father's nature to pull his leg he thought that Fergus just _might _have done it this once to make him stop sucking his thumb. He _liked _sucking his thumb, and he saw no reason to quit, so he shook his head and scowled. "Mm-mmm."

Fergus put on a stern expression, but his voice was more serious than angry. "_Take_ your thumb _out_ of your mouth."

"_Mm-mmm!_"

"Why not?"

Roy removed his thumb just long enough to speak. "Just because."

Upon having his own phrase used against him, Fergus knew he had walked right into that one, and he fought to keep from smiling. Positive feedback for blatant sass wasn't the best response, and he mostly succeeded in keeping his stern expression. He decided to just let it go; he didn't feel like arguing with a two-year-old today! "I guess you're too young for it to make a difference yet. Let's go inside and have some lunch."

Roy had always been a good eater, and he brightened at this. "Yay, lunch!"

* * *

Storytime with Momma wasn't as comfortable as it used to be. Her belly had gotten very round, and Roy was no longer able to sit on her lap without feeling like he was about to slide off. Or, more recently, without being 'kicked', as Momma had put it. Those weird little nudges made him giggle when he felt them, and his reaction only seemed to trigger more of them, but they made it hard to focus on the stories. Instead, he had taken to cuddling up beside her when it was time for his bedtime story. And this was fine. Nice, even. But the word 'baby' being applied to Momma's belly instead of him? He wasn't exactly _upset_ by this, but he didn't quite _understand_ it either.

On some nights it was Daddy who put him to bed, and though Fergus did his best, he just _wasn't _a good storyteller. His 'stories' mainly consisted of him talking about the interactions he'd had during the day, conversations that might or might not be interesting to an adult, but to a toddler? Not so much.

A neighbor's garden had moles, whatever those were. So what?

And what did a toddler care about the potato harvest, or how the old codger next door could always tell it was going to rain because his shoulders ached? Yes, mashed potatoes tasted good, and the shoulder thing worked and was a neat trick, but these weren't really _stories, _were they?

What about the funny, short-lived humans who couldn't see past the ends of their noses? Now, _that _was interesting! Fergus didn't seem to like them very much, but Cori had _so_ many human tales to tell him!

But this night, Momma was working. Gran was tired again.

And Daddy was worried. Roy wasn't aware of that, however. His back was very itchy, which made it hard to get comfortable. And, to make matters worse, a thunderstorm had rolled in. It began with a distant rumble, but before long it was clear that the storm would pass right over the Fairy town.

One particularly loud crack of thunder boomed directly above them, and that was all it took before the boy was screaming.

* * *

Fergus was still awake, unable to relax as the thought of his pregnant wife braving the storm plagued his mind. He was irrationally angry at Tooth Fairy for having gotten ill those few years ago, and he loathed himself for it. He _knew_ it wasn't her fault, just as he knew that his wife was very capable, pregnant or not, but he feared for her and their unborn child just the same.

A candle burned low on his bedside table, and Fergus stared at it for so long that when he looked away he had a large, purple spot in his field of vision. Worrying wouldn't change what was, he knew, and he had just decided to try again for some sleep when his son's cries had him out of bed in a flash. It wouldn't do to have his mother-in-law wake up, frail as she was becoming, and he knew that most small children needed reassurance during thunderstorms. He went into the adjoining room, gently scooped up his wailing toddler, and brought him back into the room he shared with Cori. "That was a loud one, wasn't it?"

Roy didn't even realize that his father had spoken, but he knew who had him, and this calmed him somewhat. "Loud, Daddy! _Loud!_"

"It _is_ loud. But we're all right." Fergus paced the room with him, patting him on the back and wishing he had Cori's gift when it came to reassuring small children. As much as he loved his son, and he _did _love him very much, his efforts to be nurturing were clumsy at best. He'd simply had no example growing up, and his father was _still_ missing in action. This would have been a _good_ thing, except not knowing where Brandel was meant not knowing when, if, or from where he would appear next.

Fortunately, it didn't matter that Fergus couldn't think of anything comforting to say, because two and a half year old Roy wouldn't have been able to absorb it at the moment anyway. Being held by those strong, warm arms went a long way towards helping Roy begin to feel safe, and it wasn't long before the boy had stopped crying and was listening to his father's heartbeat in between thunderclaps.

"There's a brave boy," Fergus whispered when Roy grew quiet. "No more crying. It's time to sleep now."

"Nooo..." Roy squirmed, and tried in vain to scratch his own back. He whined in irritation. "_Itchy..._"

_His wings. Right on schedule, then..._

Fergus nodded. Roy's wings wouldn't emerge tonight, but it wouldn't be long now. "It'll go away in time. It happened to Daddy, too, when he was your age. And now I have wings. It itches when they're getting ready to come out."

Roy looked up at his father, then at Fergus's large, red wings with something akin to awe. "Me too?"

"Yes," Fergus nodded, but not without a twinge of sadness. His son's wings would be perfectly functional, and they would serve him well...but they would still be smaller than normal, and purple to boot. "You'll have wings someday. And it won't itch anymore."

"Now?" Roy asked, both about his wings and the cessation of that infernal itching.

"Not yet," Fergus shook his head, "but how about a story?"

Remembering the dubious quality of his father's stories, Roy's hopeful expression dropped into a comical scowl.

Fergus laughed quietly in spite of himself. "Right. No story."

There was another loud clap of thunder, and Roy squeaked and hid his face. "Story, story, story..."

"Hmm..." Fergus sat down on the edge of his bed and considered for a moment. There was only one story he knew well, as all Fairies did, and this was the story of how the 'Tooth Fairy' came into being. If anyone should know this story, it should be the one who was next in line for the job. "Did you know that there was a time when the Fairies and the humans used to be friends?"

Roy looked up at his father and shook his head. "But not now?"

The answer to that question wasn't exactly a 'no'. It was a bit more complicated than that. "Not in the same way as before. We can leave our home and talk to them, because sometimes we need to buy things we can't grow or make here, but when we do this we have to pretend to be humans. Like this..."

Fergus snapped his fingers, and his wings seemed to disappear. Roy loved that trick, and smiled in spite of his fear of the storm. Fergus snapped his fingers again, and his wings reappeared. "You see...humans don't _have_ magic. At least, not like we do. And a long, long time ago, a few of them learned that they can _steal _our magic from us. And some of them did."

This was frightening on a deeply instinctual level, and Roy lost his smile and whispered, "Stealing is bad..."

"It's very bad," Fergus agreed, nodding solemnly, and he continued, "and one day, King Oberon and Queen Titania decided that the Fairies would leave the human world. So, they gathered their people together...and they made this place. But to keep it hidden from the humans, they needed some very _special_ magic."

There was another rumble of thunder, but Roy never even noticed. The thunder was getting further and further away, and this was getting interesting. What was this special magic his daddy was talking about?

"When humans are very small...when they're children, just like you...they have a special kind of magic that lets them see and believe the things most grown humans can't. And as they grow, that magic slowly leaves them." Fergus found it easier to tell this story as he went on. Perhaps getting started was the hard part.

"Why?" Roy asked.

"Well...every race, from humans to Fairies, from Elves to Sprites, gets two sets of teeth in their lifetime. We lose our baby teeth as we grow up, and our adult teeth grown in. And every time a human loses one of their baby teeth, they lose a tiny bit of that special magic." Fergus paused to let this sink in.

"Why?"

"I don't know," Fergus shrugged. "It's just the way it is. But King Oberon chose a Fairy woman to fly out and collect those baby teeth, so that the magic could be used to hide this place from the humans. That woman was your many-times great-grandmother."

"Ohhh," Roy nodded as if this made sense to him. And it did, at least a little. But this ancestor really didn't mean anything to him, because he had no idea who she was. "Why hide?"

"So that the humans can't steal our magic. Remember?"

Roy nodded.

"Well...one day, Mother Nature noticed that the Fairies had all but disappeared from the Earth, at least from what she could see. And there was a place..._this _place...that she could no longer 'see'. So, one night she caught the Tooth Fairy by gently holding on to one of her wings..." Fergus reached up and made as if to lightly grab his own wing to demonstrate, but lowered his hand again. Even _he_ couldn't bring himself to touch his own wings. "...and asked her where all the others were. And the Tooth Fairy told her what they had done. Well, Mother Nature saw the wisdom in this, and things went on like that for a very long time."

"Why?"

_Why, why, why...At least I know the answer to this one!_ "Because it worked. This place stayed hidden, and we live _near _the humans, but not _with _them. But something unexpected happened."

"What?" Roy sat up, more awake than ever. This story didn't make him sleepy like Momma's did, probably because Daddy didn't have the 'soothing tones' way of telling it, but it _was_ a good one.

Fergus smiled a little. "The humans began to notice what was happening with their baby teeth. One family decided to get to the bottom of things. And one night, after their daughter lost her third tooth, the parents stayed up to watch what would happen. And when a woman with wings on her back came inside and tried to leave with the tooth, the trap was sprung. But these weren't _bad_ humans, and they didn't hurt the Tooth Fairy when they caught her. They asked her who she was and what she was doing there, and after the Tooth Fairy told them a _little_ bit of the truth, but not _all _of it, they let her go."

"Gran?" Asked Roy.

"No," Fergus shook his head. "Not Gran, but _her _Gran. And that human child told her friends about the Tooth Fairy. And they told _their _friends. Time passed, and a new legend began among the humans."

"A wha'?"

Fergus gave a tolerant smile; he was used to the interruptions of a curious toddler by now. "A _legend. _A special story, I guess you could call it. Humans told their children that if they put a baby tooth underneath their pillow, the Tooth Fairy would come and leave a coin in it's place. Because it's very rude to take someone's magic, even if they don't need it anymore or even know about it, and not give them something in return. We, as Fairies, _always_ honor this rule."

Roy nodded solemnly and repeated, "Stealing is bad."

"Mm-hmm. And Mother Nature approached the Tooth Fairy, and asked her if she wanted to join the Council of Legendary figures. She said yes. And from that day onward, the first child born to the Tooth Fairy would become the new Tooth Fairy. Momma will be the Tooth Fairy after Gran...and you will be the Tooth Fairy after Momma. And did you know that you'll be the first boy to do that?" Fergus asked.

Roy shook his head, and now he was frowning. "Don't wanna."

"Oh?" Fergus tried not to show his own misgivings. "What do you want to do instead?"

"Play!" Roy grinned.

Well, of course.

Fergus nodded. "You can do that, too, sometimes. But right now, it's time to go to sleep."

The child protested. "But...more story!"

"The story is over, though. And it's getting late. The storm is far away now. And Daddy's very tired." Fergus tried to reason with him.

"_I'm_ not."

"Well, I am." Fergus blew out the candle and settled down to sleep, shifting his wings a bit so that the lower one stretched out behind him on the mattress. "Just lie down. You don't have to sleep."

Roy did as he was told, determined not to fall asleep. He was snoring three minutes later.

* * *

As the days passed, Roy began to grow lethargic, and his itchy back was making it nearly impossible to sleep. Fergus and Cori were not alarmed by this, as it was a perfectly normal (if uncomfortable) part of Fairy childhood, but they brought him to see Dr. Tanin, just to make sure everything was as it should be.

Dr. Tanin lifted the back of Roy's shirt, and nodded at what he saw. The developing purple wings no longer looked like a tattoo, and stood out in sharp relief against the smooth skin that covered the rest of the child's back. The skin that covered the wings themselves had grown thick and tough, and was transparent like an empty butterfly cocoon. There was a small, raised 'hill' underneath these wings, which was a muscle group that no human possessed, but that the Fairies needed in order to fly.

"Excellent. Your son's wings should emerge within the next few days," Dr. Tanin smiled at the couple, who smiled back and exchanged a relieved look. "When this happens, he'll fall into a deep sleep, and you won't be able to wake him from it. This is perfectly normal, and all you need do is be there when he awakens."

"How long does it usually take?" Asked Cori.

"Anywhere from four to six hours is the average amount of time, but twelve hours is not unheard of. Given the small size of your son's wings, you can expect it to take less time. He _will_ be thirsty when he wakes up, and he might be a little disoriented at first." Dr. Tanin explained as he handed Roy back to his mother. "Waking up with two more limbs than you went to sleep with is a big change to get used to. Most of us can't remember back that far, but those of us who can will tell you that a positive attitude is very reassuring. If you treat this like it's something that should be celebrated, because it is, the change will be a lot easier for him."

Cori smiled. "I vaguely remember waking up with mine. It _was _a bit of a shock. Do you remember getting yours, Fergus?"

Fergus shook his head. "No, I don't remember anything from when I was that young."

Roy squirmed and tried to reach his back to scratch it, then gave up and began to cry out of frustration.

Dr. Tanin shook his head in sympathy. "In the meantime, there are methods to help relieve some of the itching. A poultice of oatmeal is quite effective."

Fergus smirked. "We only just got him to stop making a mess with his breakfast, and now we're rubbing it on his back?"

"Essentially, yes." Dr. Tanin chuckled. "The important thing is to keep him comfortable. He won't want to move very much, so you won't have to worry about keeping him still. Will they, little man?"

"Itch..." Roy whimpered. He didn't know what the grown-ups were talking about, and he didn't care. He just wanted relief!

Cori lightly swayed her body as she held him close and rubbed his back, the friction of this actually helping somewhat with the itch. "I know, darling. Let's go home, and we'll see what we can do."

* * *

It happened three nights later, when everyone else was asleep. Roy had taken to sleeping without his shirt on for comfort, and when Cori came to wake him up in the morning she received a surprise.

Roy lay curled up on his side, cuddling the blankets to his chest. Bits of hard, clear material were strewn about on the mattress behind him. A cute little pair of jewel-like purple wings, already dry and fully extended, adorned his back. As expected, they were smaller than one would normally find on a Fairy boy, but to Cori they were _perfect. _

"Fergus? Fergus, come and see! Bring some water." Cori called, her voice pitched low in a loud whisper.

Roy twitched at the sound of his mother's voice, and at his father's answering footsteps. Something didn't feel right. His head ached only slightly, and his tongue was stuck to the roof of his dry mouth. He smacked his lips and opened his eyes. His back didn't itch anymore, but as he stretched and tried to fully wake up, he felt...

What _was _that?

His wings gave an awkward, out of synch flap, which startled him. Unnerved, he reached for his mother. "Momma..."

Cori smiled and picked him up. "Well, _good morning. _Look, darling, you got your wings! See?"

She pointed at the mirror, and Roy turned his head to look. They weren't big like Daddy's, but they were there, and he could move them if he chose to; he gave it a try, and his little wings gave a triumphant buzz. He smiled up at his parents, still a little groggy, and accepted the cup of water when his father offered it.

"It'll be time for flying lessons soon," Fergus told Cori, picking the last few bits of chrysalis from his son's bare back. This didn't cause any pain, and Roy ignored it as he quenched his thirst.

Now that Roy's magic wasn't focused entirely on growing his wings, _he_ would begin to grow again, but at a much slower rate than before. He and the new baby would end up looking like they were the same age in a few years.

_Two young children running and flying around. I hope Cori and I have the energy for this, because it's happening. And it's happening so fast._


	6. Chapter 6: Flying Lesson

"It's A Boy"

_Note:__ Fergus is unintentionally sexist and makes one of his biggest parenting snafus, although this won't be apparent for quite some time. Roy reluctantly starts his flying lessons, with some amusing results. Slightly shorter chapter than I would usually post, but I wanted to focus on one thing at a time here. Fergus and Cori are usually on the same page, but as you can see, they're not perfect. Then again, who is? XD_

"Chapter 6: Flying Lesson"

September 12th, 1513

Flying lessons didn't happen as soon as Fergus and Cori had hoped. Roy, who had gotten overly excited and tried out his new wings on the first day before his parents could stop him, had ended up careening into a wall. He'd screamed bloody murder, and it soon became clear that he was more frightened than hurt, but after that he simply refused to try at all. For the next six months, whenever Daddy would bring up flying lessons, he would either pretend he didn't hear or vehemently protest until Momma gave him his way. 'He's not ready,' his mother had said, and he quite agreed.

Fergus didn't like it when Cori undermined his authority, and he was not the most patient man in the world, but he had been extremely patient with Roy, all things considered. He understood why the boy was scared, and he _did _sympathize. Still, the time had come. Fairy pregnancies generally lasted twenty-four months, as opposed to the humans' nine, and they were every bit as uncomfortable. Perhaps even more so, though neither race could make that comparison.

Now, with Cori's due date looming, Fergus's patience had run out. He might not _have_ the time to properly teach their son when there was a new baby to care for, and he wanted to avoid another accident. If Roy didn't know how to fly by the time his new sibling was born, Fergus might not be able to intervene in time if another flying attempt went awry. With flying, the best way to learn it was to do it, and to have someone there to catch.

Roy looked back and forth as his parents argued across the breakfast table, poking disconsolately at his scrambled eggs.

"Cori, he's three years old. Most of us are flying within a week or two of getting our wings, and it's already been six months," Fergus declared, unwilling to back down this time. He reached across the table and poured himself some water from the pitcher. Then, trying to be mannerly, offered it to his wife instead. Cori waved it away, and he took a long drink.

"But he's scared," Cori protested, "If you force him, he might end up _hating_ it."

"Nonsense," He snorted. "Our people don't hate flying."

Roy _didn't_ hate flying, as long as he was a passenger. What he didn't particularly care for was _crashing. _He had already made his opinions clear, and he saw no reason to butt in and repeat himself. Besides, Daddy hated to be interrupted, and could be a bit gruff when this happened.

Cori frowned. Her mood swings hadn't been bad, but she was more inclined to insist on having her way, and she did so now. "Fergus...I'm his mother, and I don't want him to learn before he's ready."

Fergus steadily met her gaze. "Well, I'm his father, and _I _don't want him growing up to be a nervous tumblebug. Being afraid of something you have to do doesn't let you off having to do it, and the sooner he learns this the better. Now, I won't be harsh with him, and I won't let him fly into a wall this time. You just trust me and let me handle this. Go put your feet up."

Fergus had meant to sound reasonable and supportive, but as sometimes happened, he come off in an entirely different way than he meant to.

"Well!" Cori took her napkin off her lap and dropped it on the table, sweeping out of the room as gracefully as her pregnant belly would allow. She saw the truth in his words, and she knew her husband hadn't meant to sound like he was patronizing her. Still, his slightly condescending tone, however unintentional it had been, had irked her. Rather than use scathing language around their son, she absented herself from the table.

Roy wanted his mother to take him with her, but this was not to be. He pushed the cold lumps of scrambled egg around his plate and looked up at his father. "You in trouble, Daddy?"

"No more than usual," Fergus hunched his shoulders as the bedroom door slammed. Then, seeing what his son was doing, he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Don't play with your food, son. Are you going to finish it?"

"It's cold," Roy complained.

"That's because you let it sit there for too long." Fergus clumsily ruffled his boy's hair, and Roy smiled in spite of himself. "You know, you shouldn't waste food. It's Mother Nature's bounty."

Roy squinted. "What's a 'boundy'?"

"Never mind. If you're not going to eat, it's time for your first flying lesson."

Roy liked scrambled eggs, but he didn't care for them when they were cold. Still, he dutifully began to eat, drawing it out for as long as possible, until he reluctantly put the last bite into his mouth. He chewed slowly, and probably more than was necessary, but he soon realized that this stalling tactic was futile. He swallowed the mouthful of liquid scrambled eggs and tried one more time to forestall the inevitable. "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"I don't _wanna_ learn to fly."

Fergus was ready for this. Calmly, he cleared his son's plate and began to wash the dishes. "That's all right. You don't have to want it. But it's still going to happen."

"_Nooo!_" Roy whined, tears impending.

Fergus froze as a long forgotten memory surfaced. He remembered how his own father had reacted when he had been the one in Roy's shoes. Fergus had whined about something, and...

_Pain. _

That was all he remembered. Pain in his back, brought on by the wrenching twist of a wing. The almost electric shock of his magic surging to mend the damage. Fergus would never have done such a thing. _Never. _But it wasn't the sound of the whining that bothered him, nor his son's disobedience. It was the fact that whining and crying might make Roy a target someday. After all, it had happened to _him, _and the who had done it was his own flesh and blood. His son wouldn't face such a thing, not if he had anything to say about it. This behavior had to be nipped in the bud, and _quick._

He hastily dried off his hands and turned to face his son again, his expression as serious as Roy had ever seen it, and he put a finger to the boy's lips. Roy was so surprised by this that he immediately fell silent. Fergus lowered his finger. "Listen to me. Are you listening?"

Roy gulped, then nodded.

Fergus lowered his voice to impart what he thought was a very important life lesson. "_No more crying. _You're getting too old for that. You're going to be a man someday, and men don't do that. The other boys will tease you for it. Crying is something only girls and women do, and the sooner you realize that, the less trouble you'll have later on. Do you understand?"

Roy _didn't_ understand, but he nodded anyway, swallowing his tears.

Fergus's eyes softened as he tried to ignore his own misgivings. On one hand, he was the father, and he had the final say in what was what. On the other hand, was he expecting too much from such a young child? He thought that, maybe, he was. But he couldn't go back on his word once he had put his foot down. This would only cause confusion.

"I know you're only three years old. But you won't be three years old forever. Momma and I won't always be able to pick you up and carry you. And you're going to have a new brother or sister soon, so we'll be busy with the baby." Fergus picked Roy up out of his chair and sat him on the edge of the table. "And we'll need your help."

"_My _help?" Roy pointed to himself, his eyes widening. Up until now, all he'd been told was that he'd have someone new to play with. But the idea that his parents might actually need his help? The concept of his parents needing _anything_ from him was a foreign (and rather interesting) concept.

"Of course," Fergus said this as if it should have been obvious. "You're going to be a big brother. That's an important job."

"Wooooowww." Roy's eyes practically had stars in them. Him? _Important? _

"But you won't be able to do it so well if you can't fly. Did you know that?"

And just like that, the starry-eyed look was replaced by a ferocious toddler scowl.

"But _why, _though? Why do I gotta _fly_ to be a big brother? I can walk!" Roy folded his arms and pooched out his lower lip.

Fergus didn't have an answer planned, and couldn't think of one on the spot, so he deflected. "Now, I'm going to back up a bit. I want you to come over to me." And he did so.

Roy scooted along the tabletop and reached for his chair, but Fergus shook his head.

"No, let the chair alone."

Roy looked up at Fergus with a calculating frown, then reached for the chair again. He defiantly climbed down and marched over to glower up at his father.

Fergus simply picked him up and put him back on top of the table, and he moved the chairs away for good measure.

"_Daddyyy!_"

Fergus shook his head. "No, I want you to try. You'll have to learn someday. You don't want to be stuck on the ground forever like a human, do you?"

"I _like _humans!" Roy folded his arms again.

"You've never even _met_ one," Fergus was mildly exasperated now.

"Don't care. Like 'em anyway."

_You wouldn't like them if you knew what they were capable of. _Seeing that this tactic wasn't working, Fergus tried something else. "Besides, flying is _fun._ If you don't learn how, you'll miss out on something great."

Roy wasn't convinced. Flying was fun, huh? Sure. Right. You betcha. Just like lima beans were good, and if he didn't let Momma clean behind his ears he'd accumulate enough dirt back there to grow potatoes. Grown-ups must really think that children were pretty stupid to believe such nonsense. Potatoes were too big to fit behind a person's ears, and lima beans made him want to throw up. And flying...

But when his parents carried him with them when _they_ flew, he _did _enjoy it. And to be able to do it himself? His wings gave an involuntary flutter, but he immediately stopped when Fergus mistook the action and tried to encourage him.

"That's it. Now, fly to me." Fergus got ready to catch.

Roy looked away. Could he do this? "I don't wanna fall..."

"I won't let that happen. Fly to Daddy, and he'll catch you."

Roy bit his lip. He wished now that he hadn't finished his breakfast; his tummy hurt. Looking up at Fergus, he saw the big hands outstretched, fingers splayed, ready to catch. He remembered how safe he felt when he was being carried in those arms. Roy scooted back and got to his feet, swaying a bit with vertigo as he looked down at the floor.

"Don't look at the floor; look at me. You can do it."

Yeah...yeah, he could do this! Roy clenched his fists and jumped...but he forgot to pump his wings, and Fergus quickly lurched forward and caught him. "I can't _do_ it..."

"Yes, you can," Fergus held him close, patted his back, then put him back on the table.

"But _Daddy..._"

"What did you forget?"

Roy stared at him, uncomprehending, and Fergus fluttered his own wings in a not-so-subtle hint. Roy gasped, then laughed at his own blunder. "Oh!"

"All right, let's give it another try," Fergus backed up and beckoned with both hands. "Flap your wings, and let them carry you to me."

Roy clenched his fists again, and made a run for the edge of the table, but he lost his nerve at the last second and stopped. He pinwheeled his arms for balance, and his wings buzzed in alarm. The next thing he knew, he was sailing upwards at a diagonal, and Fergus dodged to his right and caught him.

"There, you see? You did it!" Fergus beamed, a rare expression on his square-jawed face.

Roy gasped and fluttered his wings. "I did?"

"It was a bit clumsy, but you did it. Want to try again?"

"_Yeah!_"

Fergus put Roy back on the table and backed up a little bit further. Now that his son had some confidence, his flight path should, in theory, be straight and true.

Roy shifted from foot to foot, getting ready. He fluttered his wings slowly, then with greater speed; his bare feet soon left the varnished wood of the table, and he wobbled a bit as he hovered in place for a moment. His wings, so tender and unused to supporting his slight weight, immediately felt the strain of it. Even so, they continued to support him and would only grow stronger with time. With the proudest grin Fergus had ever seen on his little face, he flew to his father and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. "I _did_ it!"

"I knew you could. Come, let's go tell Momma. That'll make her happy again."

* * *

Fergus knocked softly on the bedroom door, and when Cori told him to come in he put Roy down. He whispered in the boy's ear, and opened the door.

Roy flew across the room to land clumsily on the bed beside his mother, fairly deafening his parents with his joyful shriek of, "MommaMommaMomma, I _did _it! I 'flewed'!"

Cori's initial reaction was a delighted smile, but as she hugged her son close she found herself near tears. "And I _missed _it...Oh, Fergus, why didn't you come and get me?"

"I..." Poor Fergus was utterly dumbfounded, and he didn't realize what he had done wrong, or if he had done anything wrong at all. "Technically, you didn't miss his _first _flight..."

"Fergus..."

"I'm sorry, Cori...I wasn't thinking."

Cori sat Roy beside her on the bed and smiled again. She couldn't wait until this baby was born and her mood could go back to normal; her feelings were so mixed and muddled lately! "No, I'm sorry. I'm just very tired today. Roy, Momma's _very_ proud of you."

Roy smiled a little and nodded, but then frowned when Cori got a slightly pained look on her face and held her round belly. "Momma? Your tummy ache?"

Cori tried to smile reassuringly, then looked up at Fergus.

Fergus had been through this once before, but he paled. "Is it time? Should I get the midwife?"

"Time for what?" Roy asked. It couldn't be _breakfast _time, because they had just eaten.

Cori distractedly stroked his hair as the pain ebbed. "I'm not sure yet."

A few hours later, she was _most definitely _sure.


	7. Chapter 7: Angry Potato Person

"It's A Boy"

_Note:__ Roy meets his new baby sister and goes through the adjustment period of no longer being the baby of the family. Gran intervenes after a minor accident involving a toy bird and a broken vase, and they have a little chat. _

_The name 'Siobhan' is pronounced 'shiv-on', and she and Connor are a couple of Roy's childhood friends. They're only mentioned here, though, and won't show up in person until later._

"Chapter 7: Angry Potato Person"

September 12th, 1513

Gran was awake much earlier in the day than she usually was, and she stayed inside with Momma while he and Daddy waited outside. Two other ladies had arrived, and when Roy tried to follow them in they gently shooed him out.

This hurt his feelings immensely! This was _his _house, and it was _his _momma who was sick in bed! Whatever it was they were doing to her up there sometimes made her holler; he could hear it from outside. But Daddy had told him that crying was for babies, and he was _not _a baby! So, what could he do if he wasn't allowed to cry?

He could get angry.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" Fergus looked up from the game of X's and O's he had been playing with his son, with limited success; each of them had a stick to draw with in the dust, and three-year-olds sometimes forgot the rules.

"I want those ladies to go away." Roy folded his arms and scowled at the closed front door.

Fergus, who had no siblings, looked from Roy's face to the house, then back to Roy. "Why?"

"'Cause they're hurting Momma, and they won't let me inside!" Roy flung down his stick. "They're _mean!_ Make 'em to go away!"

"Ah," Fergus hid a smile and went from sitting on his knees to sitting cross-legged. He patted his knee, and Roy came over to sit. "They're not _really _mean, they just have a job to do. So does Momma."

"They're _mean,_" Roy insisted.

Fergus didn't argue. Instead, he thought of a family visit they had taken when he felt it was safe enough; they hadn't heard from Brandel since that day when Roy was only a year old, and Fergus was beginning to think the man was dead. "Do you remember when our neighbor Anwell had us over for the afternoon, and his cat had her kittens while we were visiting?"

Roy shrugged. He _did _remember, at least a little bit. But it had been icky, and he hadn't wanted to watch. Instead, he, Connor, and little Siobhan had gone off to play. Later on, the kittens had turned into cute little fluff balls, and the children had enjoyed holding them until the mother cat became nervous. Then Anwell told them it was time to give the kittens back to their mother, and Roy's mother had said it was time to go home.

"Well, that's what Momma's doing right now."

Roy frowned as he worked this out in his head, then went wide-eyed when he came to the wrong conclusion. "Momma's having _kittens?!_"

Fergus laughed. A great, rolling guffaw shook his frame and nearly caused him to tilt over backwards. His reaction was caused by equal parts of tension and amusement, and he couldn't help it.

"Stop laughin' at me!" Roy vaulted off of his father's lap, greatly offended, and deliberately smudged the game of X's and O's with his foot to ruin it.

Fergus didn't chastise him for this, and quickly got his mirth under control. "Sorry, son. That...haha...I didn't mean to laugh at you. And no, Momma isn't having kittens. She's having a _baby._ And those ladies are here to help her because it's hard work."

"Oh..." The child played with the hem of his shirt, still clasping the stick in his other hand as his stunted purple wings moved in idle thought. "But why do they get to go in, and we don't? We _live_ here."

Fergus's cheeks turned red, and he cleared his throat. "Um...well..."

Roy remembered the kittens being born, and something clicked. "Oh! Is it 'cause the baby comes out of-"

"_Shh,_" Fergus said quickly, turning redder than ever. "Yes. But it's not for men to see."

"But you said it's-"

"Natural, yes, it is. So is going to the privy, but we do that alone when we're old enough to not need help, right?" Fergus wished Cori was there to explain it!

"Ohhh," Roy nodded, not fully understanding how these two activities were in any way connected, but he understood the concept of privacy. And, since his father had said his mother needed help, he didn't ask why the ladies were there. But he _did_ have another question. "How did Momma _get _her baby?"

Now, _this_ was a conversation that Fergus _definitely _wasn't ready to have! He drew another grid on the ground. "I'll tell you when you're older. Want to go first?"

"Yeah!"

* * *

Dinner had been brought outside to Roy and Fergus; cold sandwiches, which neither of them complained about, and a pitcher of water. Gran left for work when it began to get dark.

Fergus sat on a large rock with Roy perched on his knee. He seemed unusually tense and anxious, and this scared Roy a little bit. His father kept a lot to himself, but those little glances up at the curtained bedroom window whenever a muffled cry reached their ears spoke volumes.

"Did Momma yell a lot when I came out?"

"I don't remember," Fergus lied.

"Yeah, you do. You said it's bad to fib!" Roy wagged a disapproving finger before looking sad. "Did I hurt Momma?"

Fergus had to smile at that. "Your momma _wanted _you, just as she wants this baby. She knew it would hurt, but she chose to go through it anyway. And when she had you in her arms, she forgot about the pain and was happy."

"Hmph..." Roy rubbed his knee, which he had scraped rather badly. "My knee still hurts, and it happened _years _ago."

_Ah, a child's gift for exaggeration._ "That happened two days ago, and you didn't have something good when it was done."

"Momma gave me a sweet," Roy pointed out, remembering the delicious sugared dates his mother occasionally gave him for being a brave boy.

"Well...a baby is a _little_ like a sweet, only better." Fergus explained. "Because you have a whole new person to get to know. A person you and your wife made together."

"Not me! Girls are _icky!_" Roy stuck out his tongue.

Fergus chuckled. "See if you feel the same way in fifty years. That's when we usually begin to see them differently."

Roy wasn't convinced, but before he could argue another scream filtered through the closed window. He buried his face in his father's chest and tried very hard not to cry. Rather than scold him, Fergus rubbed his back until he fell asleep.

* * *

Roy's sister was born just before midnight, bringing a day of chaos and confusion to an end. The boy awoke to his father accidentally jostling him as he got to his feet, and he blinked owlishly at the woman who had disturbed them. It was one of the ladies from before, and she was smiling.

"What is it?" asked Fergus, seeming to have forgotten that his son was there, even though he was holding him.

"It's a girl. Mother and daughter are doing just fine." replied the midwife before turning to Roy, who still wasn't sure if he liked her or not. "You have a sister, little one."

"I'm not little; I'm a _big boy._" Roy scowled, an expression which only deepened when both adults chuckled at him.

"My apologies, sir!" she curtsied and motioned for them to go inside.

Roy craned his neck to look behind him as Fergus carried him up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He didn't know what he expected to see, having never seen a newborn Fairy before, but he was confused when all he saw was a balled-up blanket and a shock of dark brown fuzz.

It turned out that the fuzz was his sister's hair, and she was swaddled up and fussing in Cori's arms. Fergus put him down and joined Cori at the other side of the bed, and Roy grew impatient. He bounced on the balls of his feet, his hands resting on the side of the bed. "I wanna see, I wanna see!"

"Shhh, you'll frighten her. Here she is," Cori smiled tiredly, turning the bundle slightly so that they could see better.

Well, the baby did not like this at all! She had just begun to calm down from her ordeal of being born into a cold world and getting bathed in water that could have been warmer, and now that she had _finally_ gotten warm and comfortable again she was being _moved!_ Red-faced and squalling, she clenched her fists and squirmed.

Fergus kissed Cori's forehead, and there was some murmured conversation, but Roy wasn't paying attention to what the grown-ups were doing. He reached out and tickled the baby's chin, which she either didn't notice or didn't like; the wailing continued. "You look like an angry potato."

"_Roy..._" Fergus looked appalled, but Cori giggled.

"What? She does!" Roy had no idea what he had done wrong, but it seemed he wasn't really in trouble, because there was no lecture.

"She's had a long day," Cori told him, "We both have. Roy, this is your little sister, Brinna."

"Hi, Brinna!" he grinned, but the baby wasn't appeased.

"Perhaps she's hungry," Fergus suggested.

"I tried, but she's too agitated to nurse," Cori told him.

Roy didn't know what that meant, but he knew that sometimes sucking his thumb made him feel better. He took Brinna's wrist with a gentleness neither of his parents expected, and brought the baby's fist to her mouth. At first she continued to fuss, but when it registered that there was something in her mouth she quieted down and began to suck.

"Alllll better," he crooned, as his mother sometimes did for him when she bandaged his scrapes. His parents thought this was amusing, but he whispered in her ear, "Grown-ups don't know _anything._"

Brinna opened her eyes and stared up at the face that was still very young, but was older than hers. Then she smiled. He smiled back.

The two partners in crime had officially met.

* * *

September 26th, 1513

But sibling hijinks were well in the future. It wasn't long before Roy learned that the entire dynamic of his household had changed. The baby woke him up at night with her cries, and Momma didn't have as much time for him as she did before. She was always too busy nursing the baby (Roy learned what that meant fairly quickly, and simply accepted it as a natural thing that happened), or changing the baby, or resting. He had to be very quiet, or he would wake the baby.

He couldn't pick the baby up because he was too small, and his parents were afraid he'd drop her; he had to be sitting down if he wanted to hold her, and one of the adults would lay her on his lap. 'Two hands!' they said, fretting as if he didn't know what he was doing. 'Support her head!' He knew, he knew!

Brinna didn't really do much, he found out. When she wasn't sleeping (which she _was_ most of the time), she was crying or eating. Sometimes she would be awake and quiet, but she would just..._lie there._ To make matters worse, Momma had cried when he told her that babies were 'boring', and Daddy had scolded him. He had only told them the truth! He hadn't meant to hurt Momma's feelings!

Dinner would sometimes be a bit late, because Daddy, who now cooked most of the meals because Momma would be doing all the Tooth Fairy work someday, was too busy helping Momma with the baby.

The baby, the baby, the baby!

One day, when Brinna was two weeks old, Roy was playing with a toy bird his father had brought home for him. He ran from one end of the house to the other, holding the bird above his head so that the wind from their passing made the wings flap, and he wasn't paying special attention to the objects in his path. During one of his trips past a small decorative table, one of the bird's wings caught the edge of a porcelain vase, which his father had given his mother on her birthday.

The vase wobbled, and Roy watched in horror as it seemed to fall in slow motion, shattering on the floor and spilling water and dandelions (which he had picked for her that morning) everywhere.

Brinna heard the sound from upstairs, and she _wailed._

Cori took one look at the vase, heard her daughter's cries, and began to weep as well. Gran had called her moods 'the baby blues', whatever that meant.

"Roy!" Fergus boomed as he went to console his wife. "What have I told you about running in the house! Now you've made the baby cry, and you've broken your mother's favorite vase!"

Roy dropped the wooden bird and looked down at his shoes. Tears filled his eyes, and his lower lip quivered. Daddy didn't want him to cry anyore, and if he did that he'd be in even worse trouble! But he couldn't help it. Fergus was speechless when he bolted from the room with an anguished wail, but Gran certainly wasn't.

"Fergus, you _frightened_ him! He's only a child." The Tooth Fairy scolded, "It was an _accident._"

Cori was torn; which child should she tend to?! The baby had been frightened, and she needed her. But her son hadn't intentionally misbehaved, and now he was upset too!

Fergus put a hand to his wife's back and guided her towards the stairs to see to Brinna. "Give me a minute, and I'll talk to him."

"Why don't you let me try first?" suggested Tooth Fairy, getting to her feet with a slight groan as she held her back. "I'll let him know you're not angry. _If_ that's the case..."

Fergus didn't like it when his mother-in-law meddled in his parenting, but he knew that Roy hadn't meant to break the vase or scare the baby, just as he himself hadn't meant to yell at the boy. He gave a terse nod as his wife climbed the stairs. "I'll, um...I'll be down in about ten minutes."

Tooth Fairy followed her grandson without a backwards glance at her son-in-law, who hung his head before trudging up after Cori.

* * *

Tooth Fairy went into the kitchen and saw all of the pots and pans strewn across the floor. She heard muffled whimpers coming from the cabinet, and she realized that her grandson had cleared out a place to hide himself. Apparently, he didn't think that the pots and pans would give away his location. Either that, or he didn't care.

A sad smile crossed her face as she navigated the obstacle course. She didn't have to gather up her skirts, because Fairy women generally didn't wear them. If anyone on the ground happened to look up, a dress would actually be rather immodest, so most Fairy women wore trousers like the men unless they went out among the humans with their wings magically hidden.

She grabbed a cookie from the jar on the counter and knelt down by the cabinet door, wincing as her knees popped, and gave three light knocks.

"Go 'way!"

"Oh..." Tooth Fairy sounded disappointed. "But I have a cookie for you..."

"I don't want it."

Tooth Fairy settled herself on the floor, pushing a pot away with her foot to sit cross-legged beside the door. "Oh, well, that's a shame...I only give cookies to _good_ little boys, and you're the only one around."

"I'm _not _good..." he sniffled. "I _broke _it...I made Momma and the baby cry!"

"I know it was an accident, and so does Momma..."

"Daddy _hates_ me! And all they care about is that _dumb_ _baby!_"

Tooth Fairy sighed and reached up to place the cookie on top of the counter as her grandson began to sob. "Come out. Come on, come to Gran..."

There was a moment when she thought he hadn't heard her, or had decided to ignore her, but then the door opened a crack. "Can I have my cookie first?" he sniffled pitifully.

She stifled a laugh. "Of course you can."

After she passed the cookie through the door, which he quickly closed, she heard soft crunching sounds in between his hiccuping breaths. He was calming down, though; cookies did it every time! When he finally deigned to join her, his face was red and streaked with tears, and his chin was speckled with crumbs. She wiped away the crumbs and took him onto her lap. "Your daddy doesn't hate you, sweetling. You knocked over the vase by accident, and he yelled at you by accident. He's very sorry now, and he knows you're sorry too."

"They love the baby more than me..." Roy mumbled as he cried on his grandmother's shoulder.

"I know it seems that way..." Tooth Fairy rubbed his back just below his new wings. "The new baby needs a lot of attention, just like you did when you were that little. You can do a lot of things for yourself now, but she still needs help. They still love you just as much as they ever did, and they don't love her more than they love you. They love you both the same."

"But all she does is eat, sleep, and poop!"

Tooth Fairy snickered. "So did you."

"Nuh-_uh!_"

"Oh, yes. And some nights you would cry for _hours._ Your poor tummy was hurting you. Maybe that's why _she_ cries at night, because her tummy aches."

Roy found his resolve to dislike the baby wavering. He _knew_ about tummy aches! A few months back, he had been very sick, and even though they tried not to let him see it, his parents had been scared. 'Magic Flux', they called it. He didn't remember much; just that he'd been hot and cold at the same time, and that he had thrown up a lot, which made him cry. Back then, Daddy had _let_ him. Now he wasn't supposed to...and he'd done it anyway. He hid his face again. "Daddy told me no more crying...I'm in _trouble!_"

Tooth Fairy had no idea what he was talking about, but her 'mama bear' (or, in this case, 'grandma grizzly') instincts kicked in, and she rocked him on her lap. "No, you're not. And if you're in trouble with _him, _then he's in trouble with _me._"

"Cause you're his momma?"

"I'm his _wife's _momma, and he's living in _my_ house. But I don't think you'll be in trouble with him. We _all_ have to adjust to the changes a new baby brings to the house. Before, he only had _one _child. _You._ Now he's very busy with two. And sometimes when we have a lot to do, we get overwhelmed."

"What's 'overwhelmed'?"

"It's...hmm...Remember when Momma was teaching you your letters, and you couldn't remember them all at first? You got very upset with yourself, because you wanted very much to get it right, you remember?"

Roy sniffled and nodded. "Uh-huh..."

"What did you do when you kept getting it wrong?" Tooth Fairy asked him.

He looked down. "I got mad and told Momma 'no', 'cause I couldn't do more, and she made me do more..."

"Well, she was just trying to teach you. But were you _really _mad at Momma?"

"Yes."

"All right, were you _only _mad at Momma? Or were you mad at yourself because you couldn't do it right away?"

"...Me."

"But you still love her, right?"

Roy nodded, wiping snot from his nose with his fist. Gran 'tsked', and wiped his hand and nose with her handkerchief.

"Well, that's a little like what happened today. Your father is trying very hard to be a good daddy, and he lost his temper when things didn't go right. But he still loves you, just like you still love Momma. Even though he got mad at you, he was a little bit mad at himself. After all, he's the one who put the vase so near the edge of the table."

"Ohhh...so it's Daddy's fault?"

"That's not what I meant...It was nobody's fault. Just an accident. And maybe I can glue the vase back together. Now...are you ready to go talk to Daddy?"

Roy sniffled a final time, then looked up at the counter. "Can I have another cookie first?"

The older lady chuckled merrily at this, and got to her feet after setting him on the floor. "Yes, you may. But first you have to put away the pots and pans."

* * *

Fergus had come down to check on Roy, and he overheard some of what his mother-in-law was saying. He didn't know exactly how to take it. It made him feel very uncomfortable, to be analyzed like that, and what made it worse was that she was _right._ He'd thought he was doing very well, until he heard the crash-tinkle of breaking porcelain, followed by his daughter's wails and his exhausted wife's sobs. He had simply snapped, and now he felt _terrible._ It was obvious that his son hadn't knocked over the vase on purpose, but he'd reacted before he could stop himself, and now the poor boy was in tears.

To make matters worse, Cori was cross with him over this. "You were too hard on him, Fergus. He's only three!"

"I know," Fergus managed to avoid snapping at her too.

"So, why are you up here with us? You should be down there with him."

_These after-baby moods are even more volatile than her pregnancy moods._ "Mother is talking to him, and I didn't want to interrupt. Cori, I'm _sorry._ You _know_ I didn't mean to snap."

"If you're sorry, then you go back down there and make it right!" Cori hissed, careful to avoid raising her voice and upsetting Brinna. The baby nursed peacefully at her mother's breast, oblivious to the turmoil that surrounded her.

Fergus had learned long ago never to argue with her when she was angry. He hung his head and went back down.

Tooth Fairy met him in the living room, leading Roy by the hand.

The boy had a cookie in his other hand, which he hid behind his back; it was before dinner, and he wasn't supposed to have those until after.

Fergus could see the effect he'd had on his son, and remorse settled over him like a soggy blanket. The boy was _afraid!_ He looked back at his mother-in-law, whose expression matched Cori's from a moment before, and he ducked his head like a scolded child. "Mother, I'd like a word with my son. Alone, please."

Tooth Fairy looked down at Roy, who seemed uncertain, but she smiled and nodded before letting go of his hand and going upstairs. Roy watched her leave, then looked hesitantly up at his father. "I'm sorry, Daddy..."

Fergus felt his eyes begin to sting, and he blinked a few times before getting down on one knee. "And _I'm _sorry for losing my temper. That was very wrong of me."

Roy held up the half-eaten treat. "I meant for the cookie..."

Realizing what he meant, Fergus chuckled. "I'll overlook it this time. Come here..."

Fergus held out his arms, and Roy rushed into them for a hug.

"I'm not bad?"

"No," Fergus shook his head and picked him up as he rose, holding him close with a hand to the back of his head. "You're not bad at all. Accidents happen. And I shouldn't have had it so close to the edge. Can you forgive your crab of a father?"

Roy imagined his father with pincers instead of hands, and giggled against his neck. "Uh-huh. Can I have another cookie?"

"How many is that?"

"Two."

"No, not before dinner."

"Awww..."

Tooth Fairy, who had been listening at the top of the stairs, smiled approvingly before retreating into her room. She needed rest.


	8. Chapter 8: Pumpkin

"It's A Boy"

_Note:__ Roy gets used to Brinna being around, and they end up being quite a handful! Brinna brings home a little surprise...well, several little surprises. Cori has a story to tell. Fergus wonders if there is a way to boost one's immunity against cuteness. Oh, and the kids have potty humor, go figure. Trigger warning for mentions of death, both Fairy and animal. Not as bad as you might think, but still sad._

_Okay, full disclosure...I'm terrible at math and working out timelines. So, instead of listing what year it is (unless it's important), I'll just say in an author's note how old Roy and his sister appear to be when compared to human children. In this chapter, they both look like they could be four or five, but their vocabulary is way beyond. They talk 'older' than they look, but act the way they look, if that makes any sense! (Edited to fix a mistake.)_

"Chapter 8: Pumpkin"

Brinna sat up and looked out her bedroom window, and she saw that the sky was the dull blue of early morning. She fluttered her wings excitedly and tiptoed into her brother's room to wake him. Soon the sun would come up, and soon their mother would be home with more human stories. Maybe they could coax a few out of her before she turned in for the day!

Roy lay on his belly with his head turned to the side. His mouth was open, and he snored softly as his sister reached for his face. Her little hand hovered near his nose before she lightly pinched his nostrils shut.

**SNORT!**

"Hee hee!" Brinna fluttered her wings again as Roy grumbled and turned his head the other way.

"Go 'way, Brinna."

"Shhh! C'mon, let's go out and wait for Momma." Brinna whispered, poking his cheek over and over.

"Momma's working..._stoppiiiiiit!_ I'm still sleepy..." He made a 'fly-shooing' motion with his hand and scooched away from her.

"Get up, or I'll tell Daddy who ate the leftover custard."

Roy glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, though out of sleepiness or annoyance even_ he _wasn't sure. "You wouldn't."

Brinna knew she had him now. She drew in a deep breath for a scream she never planned on actually giving, and when he covered her mouth she batted her eyes at him.

"You are _such_ a pest...Go put your slippers on."

"Remember, if you're asleep when I come back, I'm telling on you." Brinna rapidly padded back to her own room.

Roy rubbed his eyes to rid them of the sleep sand, and he seriously considered going back to sleep, but he knew his sister would only start all over again. He doubted she would actually tell on him right away, because waking their father up at such an early hour would only get _both_ of them in trouble, and he was more or less awake now. If she got disgusted with waiting and went out on her own, the 'bad man' they'd been warned about might come back. She would need her big brother there to keep her safe. And besides, _he_ didn't want to be left out if she was going to bend the rules!

He got out of bed, put on his slippers and his jacket, and tiptoed downstairs to find Brinna waiting by the door. He took one look at her, rolled his eyes, then went back upstairs.

"Where're you going?" She whispered after him.

He didn't answer her because he was passing by their parents' room, but when he came back down again he had her jacket in his hands.

"I don't _need_ a jacket."

"Yeah, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Just put it on."

"Don't be mean..." Brinna folded her arms.

"I'm not," he whispered back, "It's cold out."

"I'm not wearing it."

Roy pressed his lips in an exasperated line, but tossed the jacket over the back of a chair. "Well, if you get the Flux, don't cry and blame _me._"

"Okay!" She said brightly and turned to the door. She hesitated. They had never snuck out of the house before! There was a little voice in the back of her mind that said, 'this probably isn't a good idea', but she ignored it.

It _was _cold outside. Roy folded his arms and tapped his slippered foot while his sister doubled back for her jacket, a little smirk playing on his lips. When she sheepishly came back out, suitably bundled up, he wagged a finger at her and taunted in a sing-song voice, "Toooldja so, I toooldja so!"

Brinna stuck out her tongue, and they sat down near the front door to wait. She was reckless, but she wasn't stupid. The property line was quite a distance away, and she wasn't about to get kidnapped today, no _sir! _The 'bad man' could go kick rocks.

Roy yawned, then smacked his lips. His mouth tasted bad, and he wished he'd remembered to clean his teeth when he got up. Come to think of it, he also wished he'd remembered to _go._ Brinna seemed just fine! Maybe she went before she woke him up. He sighed, jiggled his leg a bit, and looked around for something to distract himself with. And then he spotted it.

A large beetle, rendered sluggish by the cold, trundled along on one of the roots of their tree house. He grinned to himself. Beetles had such funny wings! He thought Fairies might be safer if they had hard little shells to protect their delicate wings, but the thought of how they would look with large beetle shells on their backs made him giggle.

"What?"

"Oh...nothing." Roy suddenly got a wicked notion, and he carefully picked the beetle up by its carapace. As soon as Brinna looked the other way, he gently placed the beetle on top of her head.

It was a good five minutes before she felt something moving in her hair, and Roy had a terrible time keeping his laughter in while he waited. The beetle's sharp little legs were poking Brinna's scalp as it tried to flee the ensuing confrontation.

Upon realizing there was a large bug in her hair, Brinna's reaction was immediate. She drew in a huge gasp, brushed frantically at her sleep-tangled curls, and a moment later the beetle lay pathetically on its back with its legs waving in the air while Roy held his stomach and pointed at her. "Roy!"

"Ah-ah-ah, you'll wake Daddy!" Still laughing, Roy saw his sister's wings give an angry buzz, and he knew he was in for it. He zoomed up into the sky with Brinna in hot pursuit.

"I'm gonna pull your hair, and break all your toys, and tell Daddy about the custard, and-and...Oooh!" She screamed.

"Wow, you're really mad!" Roy was still laughing, but he wondered how empty those threats were, and he had no desire to have his hair pulled that morning or any other.

"You put a _bug _in my hair, Roy!"

"_Ahahahahaha!_" Roy's flight path wobbled as his laughter interfered with his flying, and Brinna nearly caught up to him. He swerved and flew in a different direction, always careful not to actually lead her off the property. Maybe she would get tired after a while, and forget about the whole thing...

He would have to stop laughing soon, though. He _really _had to go!

And then he spotted something on the ground. Crouched near a tree root, tail twitching, its eyes focused steadily on a flock of birds in the grass, was a very skinny gray tabby.

Roy slowed to a mid-air halt, unsure if he should stop the cat or if he should turn a blind eye. The poor thing _did_ look very hungry, and it _was _nature's way...but he felt sorry for the birds, and...

And Brinna, who hadn't seen the cat, didn't stop in time to avoid colliding with her brother's back, and the two of them barrel-rolled to the ground. They weren't very high up, and they probably could have made a better landing if she hadn't latched on to him so that he couldn't get away, but at least she wasn't pulling his hair! They landed with a soft 'bump' a few yards away from the cat, whose hunt had just been spoiled. The birds scattered with a chorus of alarmed twittering, and the cat took fright and ran.

As they brushed themselves off and began to get up, Brinna shoved her brother from his kneeling position and onto his backside, but this was as far as she took her revenge. She was panting from their wild flight, and she wasn't really as angry as she'd sounded.

"Brinna!"

"Well, it was _your _fault!"

"No, it wasn't! Not _my_ fault you can't look where you're going!"

"_You're the one who put a bug in my hair!_"

Roy folded his arms and haughtily looked away. "Hmph!"

Brinna did the same. "Hmph!"

They sat there for several minutes, giving each other the cold shoulder, and the sun began to peek over the horizon. Brinna broke first. She looked over at Roy, who hadn't moved, and she reached over to tickle his neck.

"Quit it."

"I'm sorry."

He looked over at her, wavering a little.

"Sorry you're such a _grumpy-pants!_" Brinna tickled him again, finally getting him to laugh, but before long Roy frantically begged her to stop before he squirmed away and bolted for the bushes.

"Hey!"

"Just stay over _there _for a minute!"

Realizing his trouble, Brinna covered her mouth to smother a giggle as she dutifully turned her back. He had gone out of sight, but just in case!

"Oh! Brinna, look! That cat had kittens!"

"You didn't _pee _on them, did you?" She asked, accusingly.

"_No!_" He shot back indignantly, but he was certainly glad he'd checked the thicket for animals first!

Brinna came over, and gasped as her heart melted.

No _wonder_ that cat was so skinny! She had a litter of six kittens, about three weeks old. "Their Momma was trying to get food, but we scared her away..."

"Oh..." Brinna looked down, ashamed. The kittens had their eyes open, and one of them hissed softly. "Awww, no hissy...we won't hurt you."

Roy looked desperately around, and departed for the shelter of another bush. When he came back, Brinna was holding one of the kittens. "Put it down, Brinna, they're scared of us."

Brinna did as she was told, surprisingly, but she had come to an important decision, and she announced, "I'm going home to get them some food."

"Huh? But they're _babies; _they still drink milk."

But Brinna wasn't listening, and he sighed and followed after her. Their mother was probably almost home by now, and their father would be getting up soon, if he wasn't up already. Why hadn't they just waited _inside? _Well, _he_ knew why. Brinna was very good at getting her way, and surely she _knew _that he wouldn't question it, as tired as he had been. "Hey!" He fluttered up alongside her, "Why didn't we just wait inside? We're gonna get in trouble now!"

"I'll tell 'em it was your idea." Brinna grinned, then shook her head when he glared daggers at her. "Or we could tell 'em we heard a noise."

He never got a chance to reply, because just as they were touching down their father scrambled out the front door, tying the drawstring of his trousers and wearing nothing more than that and his linen undershirt. There was a look of utter panic on his face, which turned an ugly brick red as soon as he spotted the young miscreants. "_Roy! Brinna!_"

"Uh-ohhh..." They muttered, looking down at the ground as their livid father charged out to get them. He had never frightened them before, not really, but now the look on his face unnerved them. It was an odd mix of residual fear, relief, and anger.

Fergus looked for all the world like he was about to do something his father might have approved of, but instead of physically disciplining them he dropped to his knees and pulled them into such a tight hug that they could hardly breathe. "You are _never...__**ever**_...to leave the house without your mother's and my permission again. _Never, ever, ever!_ Do you understand me?"

"Uh-huh..."

Fergus released them from the hug, but kept a firm grip on their shoulders. "You're not hurt? Did you _see _anyone? Did anyone talk to _you?_"

Roy and Brinna mutely shook their heads.

"What in the name of Oberon were you _doing?_"

"Um..." Roy looked at Brinna.

"Uh..." Brinna looked back at Roy. They looked back up at their father and shrugged.

"No. 'Um' and 'uh' aren't the answers I want to hear. Go inside."

Brinna remembered the kittens, and began to protest. "But..."

Fergus pointed at the open front door. "_Now._"

The children knew better than to argue, and they went inside without another word. Things were tense in the kitchen as Fergus got breakfast ready. He wouldn't let them leave the room, and when they complained about it he was unmoved. "I don't want to hear it. Sit _right _there and be quiet." _Cori doesn't need this right now..._

It had been a very difficult year for Cori. She was now officially the current Tooth Fairy, and on top of the loss of her mother, she had, in her mind, lost her looks. With the job came the automatic aging, to bring her to the physical age the very first Tooth Fairy had been when she had accepted her position on the Legendary Council. She now resembled a very well-preserved human lady of around forty-five to fifty, not an old crone by _any _means. She now looked slightly older than her husband, which was quite a reversal.

To Fergus, she was still just as beautiful as ever, but he had no idea how to comfort her. Not with something like this. He had always been the 'fixer', but her heart was utterly shattered, and that just wasn't something he could fix. Nor could he commiserate, because he had never known his mother, and his father was...well, his father. And now their children took it into their heads to do _this!_

Fergus looked up from stirring a large pot of porridge when the door opened and in walked Cori.

Cori hung up her coat and stretched before taking in the sight of them. No children had run up to greet her. Fergus hadn't said a word. And no one was smiling. "What happened?"

Fergus took the pot off the heat and went over to greet her with a quick kiss. "The children snuck out of the house, but they won't tell me why."

Brinna piped up, "That's because you were _scary..._"

Fergus closed his eyes and sighed. "I _might_ have yelled a little..."

Brinna expected their mother to do what she usually did and tell him not to be so 'impatient' with them, but Cori's reaction to this clued her in on the fact that they just might have pulled a much bigger 'no-no' than she'd thought.

"I would have yelled, too." Cori fixed her children with a disapproving stare, but there was none of the smoke and bluster that Fergus had shown. "I'll prepare the fruit, dear. Children, come sit down. I want to tell you a story."

Fergus folded his arms. "Do they _deserve _a story?"

"They need to hear _this _one." Cori began to peel an autumn apple while her children fidgeted in their seats and waited to hear what she had to say. "Several years ago, on one of the nights I filled in for Gran, I was flying over Scotland."

"Where's that?" asked Roy.

"Shhh," Cori gently chided him. "Don't interrupt your Momma when she's talking."

"Sorry..."

"Quite all right. Now, the Scottish moors are beautiful, but they can also be very dangerous, especially at night. And that particular night, I saw a man and two boys, about ten and twelve, frantically searching for something. So, I used a little extra magic and made _all_ of myself invisible, not just my wings. I flew down so that I could hear what they were yelling."

Roy and Brinna accepted it when their mother offered them each a curl of rosy red apple peel, and they held in their questions.

"They were searching for a little girl. She had followed her brothers without permission, but they did not know it. And now she was lost. To make matters worse, it was rainy and cold, and wolves were a very real concern. They would very much prefer to _avoid _humans, but survival being what it is, and children being as _small_ as they were, they might not have left her alone. Of course, it's _also_ possible that the alpha female of the wolf pack would have tried to adopt her. Such things have happened before."

Fergus returned the porridge to the heat and let his wife take over the task of minding the children, relieved that she was able to talk to them so calmly. After the scare they had given him, and his unfortunate but hopefully understandable reaction, he had no idea where her patience came from!

"And I thought of the two of _you_ in that little girl's shoes; helpless, alone, and scared in the rain. I knew I had to do _something._ So, while they searched in one direction, I looked in another. And, eventually, I found her. Poor little thing...so cold and frightened!"

Roy felt _bad. _If something like that had happened to Brinna and himself, they would have at least had each other for comfort. That little girl had been all alone! Why, if _he'd _been there, he would have saved her, told her everything would be all right, and...oh, his mother was talking again.

"I couldn't show myself to them, but they were overjoyed to have her back, and hopefully she learned her lesson about wandering off. Now...you understand that what you did was very wrong, don't you?"

They nodded, and Roy spoke up. "But we didn't _leave._ We stayed in the 'safe spot'."

Cori looked up from chopping the apple into tiny cubes to be sprinkled into the porridge. "Your father didn't know that. All he knew was that he woke up, and the two of you were just _gone._ You have _no_ idea how scary that is for a parent, and I pray you never have to find out. Children...you must promise me that you will _never _scare us like that again. Because if _anything_ were to happen to you two, I don't know _what _I'd do."

Roy felt the full force of his shame as he heard his mother's voice shake, as if she were about to cry. Brinna began to sniffle. He hung his head and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "M'sorry, Momma. I won't do it again, I promise."

Brinna was openly crying now, and Cori put aside the apple and the paring knife to take her onto her lap and hold her. She reached over and rubbed her son's back, not calling attention to the fact that he turned away to quickly wipe at his eyes. He always tried to be so brave!

"Brinna, promise Momma?" Cori whispered in her daughter's ear. Brinna nodded. "Good girl. Now! No one's been hurt, and you're safe at home. And I'm going to make sure it stays that way. You may not go out and play today."

"Aww, Momma..." Roy gave her a pleading look.

"No, I think you've both had enough adventuring for one day. Today, you can help your father around the house. Play quiet games. But no going outside. Today, you're both being punished."

"But we _said _we were _sorry._" Brinna protested.

"And I believe you. But sometimes being sorry isn't enough, and you must face the consequences of your actions. Now, go and wash up for breakfast. I don't want to hear another word about it."

Roy and Brinna trooped off to scrub their hands and faces, and Roy grumbled to his sister out of the corner of his mouth, "Toldja it was a bad idea."

"Did not."

He wasn't sure if he'd actually said that or not, but at the moment it made no difference to him. Breakfast was a quiet affair, and neither of them was very interested in their food that day.

* * *

Fergus sat by his bedroom window that evening, as was his custom. With two children to raise on a daytime schedule, and a wife who worked nights, he had begun to fully understand what it meant to be married to the Tooth Fairy. There was still family time after she woke up; a good five or six hours of it, until she had to leave for work. But he missed waking up beside her in the morning. He missed the freedom they'd once had. He missed _her_.

Cori stood at the mirror as she pinned her hair in a tight updo to keep it from blowing wildly in the wind. There wasn't much she could do about the wind half-blinding her at times, but perhaps in the future something would be invented to combat this. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and sighed. Then she covered the mirror by draping her nightgown over it.

"Cori?" Fergus looked over at her in concern. "Why did you cover the mirror?"

"I don't look like _me_ anymore. I look in the mirror, and...all I see is an old woman staring back at me." Cori put her hands over her face, and she didn't resist when Fergus came over and took her in his arms.

"You do _not _look old. You're beautiful, inside and out." _No...anything but the tears..._

But of course, she was crying anyway. "I just miss her so much!"

She was talking about her mother, Fergus knew, and not her old reflection. "Shhh...I know. I miss her too." Fergus felt his eyes begin to sting. Oh well...it was just the two of them. He let a few tears fall, discreetly wiping them away so that she wouldn't see. This was so unbecoming of a man! His father would...

His father.

Cori felt him grow tense, and she stepped back and dried her eyes. "I'm sorry. I know you hate it when I cry."

He shook his head and offered her his handkerchief. "It isn't that." He sighed and looked out the window again as if hoping to catch a glimpse of something. Or some_one._

Cori wasn't accustomed to seeing her husband look so rattled, but she was pretty sure her thoughts were more or less in line with his. "Tell me."

He began to pace, then stopped himself. "When I woke up and found their beds empty, I just...I thought he got _in_ somehow. Or maybe they wandered _out,_ and he was _there _and called them over, and..."

Cori pocketed the used handkerchief and nodded. "I know."

"Years ago, I made a promise...I promised myself that if ever had children, they would have nothing to do with him. He wouldn't know of them, he wouldn't see them, _nothing. _And I wasn't able to keep that promise. He knows where we are, and he knows about _Roy, _at least. And if you bring it up later, I'll deny ever saying it, but...I don't think I've _ever_ been as afraid as I was today!" Fergus ran his hand through his hair, clenching his fingers involuntarily as he did so and pulling his hair a little bit.

Cori reached up and put her hand over his, prompting him to let go, and she smoothed his hair down again. "Neither have I."

"I _need_ to find out where he is. _If_ he still is. We can't _live_ like this, Cori! I scared the children today, and all I could think about was...what if I'm turning into _him?_" Fergus shook his head and quickly turned away from her to maintain his emotional control. She would _not_ see him be weak. She would _not!_

Cori understood what he was doing, and she didn't call attention to it. "The children are _fine, _husband. They were more upset about not being allowed outside today, and I stand by my decision there. They _needed_ to understand that what they did was not only wrong, but dangerous. If I had been here when it happened, I might have yelled at them too. I will speak with Mother Nature as soon as I can. She's very busy and hard to track down at times, but I will."

Fergus nodded, but did not turn to face her.

"Fergus?"

"Hm?"

"You're _not_ turning into your father. You're _nothing like him._"

Fergus shook his head, and he had to smile at that. How had it gone from him comforting her to the other way around? And she was right; their children hadn't exactly been traumatized by his reaction. Thinking back on _their_ reaction, he wouldn't have put it any higher than 'mildly surprised'. He turned to her again and kissed her. "Precocious little scamps, aren't they?"

"'Scamps' is a good word for them, and I _really_ like the word 'precocious'." she smiled, then stepped away from him. He didn't know it, but her own mother used to call her 'precocious' all the time! "Time to go."

Fergus closed the distance between them again and gently cradled her face in his hands. "You be _safe_ out there."

"I will."

* * *

A few days later, Brinna woke Roy up again, much to his annoyance. But he was just plain _appalled_ when he noticed he could feel the cold radiating off her from where she stood, more than a foot away. He opened his eyes and gaped at her. "You went _outside, _didn't you? We promised Momma! You _lied._"

Brinna shook her head vigorously, clutching her jacket in her hands. She had the corners and the sleeves pulled together to make a loose bundle, and from inside the bundle came a plaintive mew. "I _didn't_ lie! I just...I wanted to...Here!"

Roy scooted back on his bed as she put the bundle down in front of him and began to open it up. He leaned away from it as if it had cooties. "Why is your jacket _meowing?_"

"They're _in_ the jacket, stupid-head!"

When he saw what she had, he forgot to tell her not to call him a 'stupid-head'. "Where are the other three?"

Brinna shook her head. "_I_ don't know. They weren't _there. _And the momma cat was...She won't wake up! And they were shivering because it's _reeeally cold_ out there, and...I _had _to do _something,_ just like Momma in her story, and I don't know where _their _family is, so I couldn't bring them _there, _so I brought them _here, _only now I'm scared because I did a naughty, and I don't want to get in trouble again, and maybe I won't if the kitties are safe, and I need _your _help, because Daddy doesn't like cats!"

Roy squinted, having trouble following her because of how quickly she rambled on, and when she paused to catch her breath he picked up the only orange kitten. He liked orange. "He doesn't have to know _when _you got them. And he doesn't like grown-up cats because they pee on things and kill rabbits. _These_ ones drink milk."

"But-but-but we don't have a _cow!_"

Roy laughed. He couldn't help it.

* * *

Later that morning, under Fergus's watchful eye, the siblings made a show of going outside and coming back in again several times. Not unusual behavior for them, really. The last time they performed this little farce, they had the kittens concealed in their jacket pockets, safe and warm. They went just out of sight to where the kittens' nest had been, and to Roy's sadness Brinna had been right. Something bad had happened to the mother cat, and three of the kittens were gone.

Predictably, as soon as he lost sight of his children, Fergus called out to them. "No, you don't! Come back where I can see you!"

Roy nodded to his sister, and he and Brinna carefully removed the kittens from their pockets and hurried back to the house with them in their arms.

"What on Earth..." Fergus prevented them from going inside with the kittens. "_Ohhh _no, they _cannot _come inside. Give them back to their mother immediately."

"But _Daddy..._" Brinna pouted.

"No buts."

Roy looked down, and he didn't have to feign sadness. "She won't wake up."

Fergus's frown deepened, and he got a good look at the kittens. Their eyes and ears were open, but they were _very_ young. Too young to eat solid food, he was sure. His conscience pricked him, and he put a hand on each child's shoulder. "Stay _right _there. Do _not_ bring those cats inside."

They nodded, and Fergus flew over to where his children had been. His heart sank. From what he could see, some sort of animal had raided the nest, and the mother cat had given her life to protect them. He hoped she was successful. But now this left him with a problem. How could those kittens survive without their mother's milk?

_Anwell._

Fergus rejoined his children and brought them inside. "All right. No, don't look so excited, we're not _keeping_ them. If we have no other choice, we're going to care for them until they can eat meat, and then we will find homes for them."

Brinna looked crestfallen, but not defeated.

Roy glanced at her, and he knew what she was thinking. The kittens were _in_ now, and now she had gained some ground with their stern father. And Brinna was _very_ good at getting her way.

"We're taking a trip to Anwell's. He has cats. Maybe one of them is nursing a litter and will accept these three, and if not...maybe he'll know what to do." He looked around for something to put the kittens in, and settled on making a bundle out of one of Cori's tea towels. Catching their eyes when he did this, he put a finger to his lips. "Do _not_ tell your mother about the towel..."

* * *

As it turned out, none of Anwell's cats had kittens at the moment, which left Fergus with no choice but to go for option number two. They would hand-feed the kittens themselves. Anwell had too much work to do, harvesting autumn produce and such, so _he_ couldn't do it. But he _did_ give Fergus a small crock of goat's milk to take home, saying that he had raised kittens on this before, and that it should work.

Fergus did _not _want these cats in his home, and he did _not_ want the added responsibility of caring for them. On the other hand, he wasn't heartless, and he couldn't just let three helpless kittens starve, could he? Plus, he figured that it might be a good lesson for the children about caring for others. And, most importantly, it would keep them in the house. So, he warmed up a small portion of the milk on the stove and showed his children how to get the kittens to take it.

It wasn't very successful at first! The kittens were not fooled by a dish cloth, no matter _how_ clean, with one corner dampened with this strange-smelling milk. To say that it was not well received would have been an understatement! Then one of them grew hungry enough to try it, and when the others saw her curl her little orange paws around the cloth Fergus held to her muzzle, they all decided that _they_ needed to be included. Before long, all three kittens were full and happy again.

Fergus was _not _best pleased with having to tend to the kittens' potty needs afterwards, as Anwell had told him they would have to do at each feeding, and the children refused to do it because it was 'icky'. He let them have that one; they had a point.

They would also have to do this every few hours around the clock, which Fergus had thought the children would probably get tired of after a while. Surprisingly, though, they didn't. Roy usually needed a few extra minutes to get himself fully awake, but he was _there, _sleepy-eyed and smiling. They _enjoyed _caring for 'their kitties', and soon Cori was in Fergus's ear about maybe keeping one of the little fluffballs.

"Why can't the children have a little pet? They've proven that they can be responsible, haven't they? They've never missed a feeding." Cori pleaded.

Fergus snorted. "It's been nearly a week now. How long can their attention hold? And I'm tired of wiping _cat bottoms. _Stop laughing; it isn't funny."

"I'm sorry, dear. But they hardly ever get to see Connor and Siobhán, because they hardly ever get to leave the property. They're lonely and bored, and...Oh, Fergus, don't you think, maybe..."

"No, Cori, I don't. As soon as they're weaned, those cats have to go."

Neither of them realized that Brinna was listening at the door.

* * *

Roy looked up from watching the kittens nap in their basket, and he tensed when his sister came charging in with tears streaking her face. "Whatsa matter?"

"Daddy's getting rid of the kitties!"

Roy felt his heart sink, but he wasn't surprised. Their father had been saying it all along, so he hadn't let himself get too attached. Well...for the most part. He went over and hugged her, looking determined. If it was just him, he probably would have griped and whined at first, but eventually he would have accepted it. But, as annoying as she sometimes was, Roy _hated _to see his sister cry. It made him feel very...something he didn't know the word for, but it made _him _want to cry too, and he didn't _do_ that anymore.

He couldn't let this happen.

* * *

Fergus broke the news to them that night when the children were feeding the kittens, and he received no help from Cori. She was very much against this decision, and she made her feelings quite plain with her refusal to help him break their children's hearts. She was currently out working, and glad of the excuse not to see him at the moment.

Brinna's lower lip began to tremble as the final verdict was delivered.

"Now, I'm sorry, but that's just how it is. They mark their territory, and when they grow up they'll hunt rabbits. You know how your mother feels about that."

"_Nooo, _Daddy!" Brinna cried in despair, having lost the match in the final round.

Roy noticed that his father didn't correct _her_ for crying, and he felt a little stab of resentment...but he also felt the same way she did about the kittens, and he didn't like to see her upset. He looked down at the little orange kitten on his lap; his favorite one. He gently picked the kitten up under the armpits, prompting an indignant squeak as its feed was briefly taken away. He held her up for Fergus to look at, as if he hadn't seen her many times already. "Um...maybe not _this_ one?"

"Mew!"

"Roy..."

The little boy got to his feet and drew himself up as he addressed his father with as much firmness and dignity as he could muster. "This one is Pumpkin. And...well...she's orange. And we love her."

_I told them not to name them. _Fergus frowned down at the kitten, then looked at his son's grave little face, at his daughter's teary eyes, and allowed himself to think, for the first time that week, '_Why am I doing this?_'

Why was he _really_ denying his children a pet? He didn't _hate_ cats. Actually, he had wanted one when he was about their age, but his father had forbidden it. He had forgotten how it had felt, and now it came creeping back in. Brandel had said no just because he _could._ Which was really why Fergus was saying no, wasn't it? It wasn't done out of cruelty, but that was still what it was; a denial, just because, and without even weighing all the options. And he hadn't even realized it.

"Mew!" Pumpkin craned her neck to look for her dinner. "_Mew!_"

_Too much cute. _Fergus sighed in defeat. "Pumpkin stays." Brinna immediately began to bawl, and Fergus picked her up, thinking she had misheard him. "I said 'Pumpkin stays'. She can _stay._"

"I-I-I kno-o-owww!"

Fergus looked mildly exasperated as he patted her on the back. "Then what's the matter _now?_"

"I'm _happy! Thank_ you, Daddy! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Brinna gave him a teary kiss on the cheek, already quieting down as he let her go. She sniffled and wiped her face as she watched him leave the room, probably to ponder how he had gotten suckered into this.

Roy, who had watched this whole exchange with a look of severe confusion on his face, shook his head as he dipped Pumpkin's dinner cloth into the bowl of milk and gave her the food she was meowing for. "Girls are so weird..."

Brinna did not appreciate this comment, and answered it with one of her own. "Boys are stinky."

"I don't stink!"

"You do _too!_" Brinna held her nose and waved her hand in front of it. "Peeew! Go take a bath!"

Roy lifted his chin, all injured dignity. "I already _took _a bath tonight."

"Maybe Daddy farted."

"Maybe _you _farted!"

At that, they burst into giggles. Then, from down the hall, Fergus's voice (clearly controlling his own amusement at this little tiff) floated back to them. "I don't care for that word, you two."

They smothered their giggles, shushing each other, and got back to the important business of feeding the kittens.

_Note:__ Little disclaimer here...I was looking up formula alternatives for kittens, because I doubt they had formula in the 1500's, so giving kittens goat's milk? It would probably be fine, based on what I found, but __**check with your vet first! **__I got it off the internet, and this is just a story, not a how-to for raising orphaned kittens. XD_


	9. Chapter 9: Revelations

"It's A Boy"

_Note:__ Cori invites Mother Nature over for tea, and Fergus airs his grievances over his father not having been found. Roy overhears the conversation, and is shocked to learn who the 'bad man' actually is. Also, Fergus disrespects Mother Nature and gets away with it. Brandel, turned highwayman in his desperation, picks a fight with the wrong drifter. _

_Fun fact: scones are said to have been invented in Scotland in 1513...the same country Alpha was originally from, and the same year Brinna was born! Did you know that? Because I sure didn't! Mind blown! Trigger warning for some violence. And an even bigger trigger warning for a character dealing with the memory of an abusive alcoholic parent. If such things are upsetting to you, please don't read on. Much love! (Edited for a mistake.)_

"Chapter 9: Revelations"

_Blasted cats._ Fergus turned aside to sneeze into the crook of his arm, then sprinkled a handful of flour on the table before turning out his dough and beginning to knead. Not only did these furry hellions make him sneeze, but they were every bit as naughty as his progeny! He had caught Pumpkin trying to steal some bacon at breakfast that morning...well, _succeeding_ was actually more accurate. Walnut, a marbled gray tabby, liked to sharpen her claws on the wooden furniture, and was very sneaky about it. And Apple, who was an ill-tempered tortoiseshell kitten, was just the wild card of the bunch. Would she be friendly and loving, or would she hiss and hide under someone's bed? It was always a coin toss.

Today was a rather important day, and Fergus had some rather strong words for Mother Nature. It was Cori's idea to have tea set out for her when she arrived, and Fergus had already had to shoo kittens away from the table three times.

No, make that four. Fergus felt a tug on the leg of his breeches and he looked down to see Apple clinging to his knee, just above his blue and green striped sock. "_No._"

"Mew!" Apple defiantly climbed up his leg and tried to get onto the table.

He quickly scooped her off his hip and began to put her down again. Then he paused. "You'll just do that again, won't you?"

The kitten, apparently in 'friendly mode' because there was food involved, purred and licked at a glob of sweet dough on his thumb.

Fergus tried to hold on to his grumpy attitude, but the corners of his mouth turned up a bit before he could stop himself. He relented, transferring the kitten to his shoulder and rinsing his hands in a basin of clean water. "Stay there, you little pest. Anyone would think we didn't feed you...but that round belly of yours gives away the lie, doesn't it?"

"Mew!"

"Well? Is that all you have to say for yourself?"

"Mrrow?"

"Hah!" Fergus shook his head. "You're nothing but trouble, you know that? Nothing. But. Trouble. And let me tell you something, I don't appreciate the hisses and the spits when I want to sit in my favorite chair, and you've decided that _your _furry behind is entitled to sit there instead. And was it _you _who left a dead mouse for me to find this morning? Well? Speak up."

The kitten began to give her usual response, but was interrupted by a yawn, giving her meow an upward inflection. "Meyyyyaaaaaaaaaah?"

"I'm boring you." Fergus deadpanned, rolling out the dough. He would have continued his banter with Apple, but Cori's giggle made him jump. He turned to look, and saw his wife standing there with twinkling eyes and a hand covering her mouth. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough, husband. I think you've found a kindred spirit!" Cori came over to kiss him and lightly scratched Apple behind the ear. The kitten leaned into it with a loud purr, then seemed to remember herself and lightly swatted Cori's hand away before jumping down and bounding out of the room.

"Piffle," he snorted as he began to cut out the scones. "I'm just trying to keep her occupied so that she doesn't walk in the flour."

"She only did that _once._"

"_Once_ was enough. Where are the children? Still playing upstairs?"

Cori nodded and seated herself at the table. She knew better than to offer to help him with this. Unable to return to his work as a tanner due to his father's actions, Fergus had needed to find other ways to keep himself occupied. Surprisingly, he excelled at cooking. It could not be said that Fergus actually _enjoyed_ cooking or baking, but being able to do this for her and the children seemed to make him feel a little bit better about their current situation. He had read every recipe he could get his hands on and thrown himself into learning the ins and outs of food preparation, and his efforts had paid off. Although, there _were_ a few 'klunkers' in the beginning, such as the time when he had somehow managed to set porridge on fire...

This wasn't what Fergus wanted, she knew. He wanted to be out in the yard, tanning deer skins and doing whatever it was men did when they were with their peers, but she had never once heard him complain about _that._ They both knew that this arrangement had been inevitable, and that the husband of the Tooth Fairy always ended up being the parent who stayed in the home with the heir to the Tooth Fairy mantle. No, he hadn't complained about that, because he'd known what he was getting into.

It was _Brandel._ If _he_ hadn't darkened their doorstep several years before, Fergus wouldn't have had to start as early as he did, and she knew that he felt cheated. _Robbed._ And, in truth, so did she.

Still...little moments like this were precious, and she knew it. As much as Fergus claimed to hate cats, he had somehow come to the conclusion that if they were keeping _one_ they might as well keep the rest. And it amused her to no end that out of the trio it was prickly little Apple who had decided that Fergus was hers. Brinna had been disappointed by this, but little Walnut adored her, so she hadn't pouted about it. Much.

"They're awfully quiet..." Fergus frowned. "What are they up to?"

"Brinna's playing with Walnut. I gave her some yarn, so they'll be occupied for quite a while. And Roy's practicing his flying." Cori crossed her ankles. It wasn't for modesty, since she wore trousers like all Fairy women, but she sometimes just enjoyed sitting that way. It made her feel ladylike. "He said to me, 'Momma, if I'm gonna be the Tooth Fairy someday, my wings need to be _big _and strong'. I didn't have the heart to tell him that...well, his wings won't get any bigger."

This wasn't strictly true. His wings would grow as _he_ grew, but their proportions in relation to the rest of his body would be about the same.

Fergus nodded. "I suppose I'll have to have that talk with him. I've put it off, I'll admit. But not today..."

"No...not today."

* * *

Mother Nature was warmly received by Cori, but she got a bit of a frosty reception from Fergus. She had no doubt that Jack Frost would have come out with a witty comment about how 'nippy' Fergus was being, but the Sprite wasn't there. She didn't have to ask what this was about; Cori had given her the cliff notes beforehand, and she didn't take Fergus's covertly hostile attitude personally.

She probably should have.

Cori went upstairs with two scones for the children and told them to stay upstairs and behave while they had 'grown-up talk', and Fergus icily pushed the plate towards Mother Nature.

"Scone?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," Mother Nature graciously accepted one, and helped herself to some clotted cream and strawberry jam as well. She heard Cori coming back down, and she decided that it was best to get this unpleasantness out of the way. She took a bite, praised the quality of his baking, and finally folded her hands on the table when the tea had been poured. "I know why your wife asked me here. And I can see that you're angry. Please, speak freely."

"How freely do I get to speak?" This was directed at both of them.

Cori nudged his leg under the table, a little more sharply than she'd meant to, earning her a reproachful look from her husband.

Mother Nature saw it, and shook her head. "Let him speak, Tooth Fairy. Let him yell if he wants to. I know I've failed you both. I've searched and I've searched..."

"_Have_ you?" Fergus was barely keeping his temper now.

"I have," Mother Nature looked unhappy, but was composed. "Many times, I've been close to finding him. _So _close. But he's always managed to hide himself before I could pinpoint his location. And I know that I'm at fault, because I granted Fairies the ability to cloak themselves all those thousands of years ago. There's nothing I can do to stop him from doing that."

"Why not? You made the spell, you can undo it."

"I _have_ to follow my own rules. I have no choice. It's magic of my own making, but it binds _me_ as well. I _cannot _revoke a gift once it's been given, anymore than you can reach into the mirror and shake hands with your own reflection. It's impossible. And unfortunately...the price of free will is that not everyone's will is good."

Fergus scoffed and got up from the table, turned his back on her in a blatant show if disrespect, and gave his wings such a furious buzz that he lifted off the ground for a second. "This is _bullshit._"

"_Fergus!_" Cori hissed, then turned to Mother Nature. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need, Tooth Fairy." Mother Nature stood up and walked over to where Fergus stood seething. "Fergus...I haven't sensed him near this place. Not _once. _Do you think it's possible that your last encounter might have frightened him away and discouraged him from coming back?

"No," Fergus shook his head. "He'd never let go of what he considers to be 'his'. He's biding his time. He has to be."

The nature goddess considered this, and went on, "Would you say your father is a patient man?"

Fergus fixed her with an irritated look. "He's a _persistent_ man." He thought back on the fight, which had ended with him receiving a broken nose. He'd also previously suspected that that was the same night Brinna was conceived, but he wasn't thinking of that. "And we humiliated him that day. He won't forget that."

"That's possible...but I believe he _left_ this place when it happened. If I could be absolutely _sure_ that he did, I can ensure that he won't be able to get back in again. Has there been any news at all? Any sightings, or whisperings?"

"No," Fergus moved away from her and poured himself some water; he didn't like tea very much. "No one's seen him. Not even at 'The Drunken Leprechaun'."

"And nothing has gone missing during the winter, when he wouldn't be able to forage?" Mother Nature asked, folding her hands in front of her as she stood near the wood stove.

Fergus set his cup down so forcefully that he slopped a tiny bit of water onto the table, which he ignored. "How should I know? I don't go knocking from door to door asking people if they're missing a ham or some turnips!"

Cori took a napkin and mopped up the spill. "Fergus...Losing your temper won't help anything."

He sighed and rubbed at his temple with two forefingers. "I don't know. Like any other place, our town has a few thieves. We have crime, we have...a lot of what the humans have, actually. No way to know if it's him or not, unless he's spotted. As far as I know, he hasn't been."

"Hm-hmm..." Mother Nature drifted across the room to look out the front window, her face pensive. "Well...by all accounts, Brandel is incapable of keeping a low profile for very long, and your children are almost ready to begin their schooling. That's an awfully long time for such a man to be silent."

Fergus looked at Cori, who shrugged, before looking back at Mother Nature. "I don't understand."

Mother Nature turned back to them. "I believe he's moved _on, _Fergus."

"No," Fergus said sharply, "I don't accept that. I let myself think that once, and he almost made off with my boy! He _could _have done!" He stopped before he could go any further when he saw that the subject was upsetting Cori. He took her hand as she stared down at her untouched scone.

"The amount of magic he's expending to keep himself hidden at all times would be enough to leave _anyone _exhausted, and he's done it for so long at this point that his health _can't_ be very good. So, it's possible that he simply doesn't have the energy to do more than keep himself alive."

"But we s_till _don't know where he _is._"

"No...but I know where he isn't. He isn't _here._" She gestured to include the Town. "I'm sure of it."

"And sure or not, if you're wrong and my father is still here?" Fergus demanded.

Mother Nature had no answer.

* * *

Roy, who had been eavesdropping at the top of the stairs and picking dried currants out of his scone so that he could eat it (he didn't like dried currants), froze when he heard what the grown-ups were talking about. So, was _that _why they were told to stay upstairs? So that they wouldn't hear that the 'bad man' was actually their very own grandfather? Was _that _why his father was always as stern as he was?

But how could a grandfather be _bad?_ His grandmother had been good, and everyone was very sad when she 'went away'. Roy hadn't really understood what was happening at the time, other than the fact that she couldn't come back, and that Momma had cried a lot. He still missed Gran. He simply couldn't imagine how it could be that his grandfather was the 'bad man' they were told to watch out for!

He thought about telling brinna, but decided not to. That cold, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach didn't feel nice, and he didn't want _her_ to feel bad too. He pocketed the picked-out currants, which he promptly forgot about, and went to look for Pumpkin.

Roy found Pumpkin sunning herself on the floor by his bedroom window, and he offered her a piece of the 'de-curranted' scone. Pumpkin sniffed at the morsel, accepted it, then spat it back out. Roy shrugged and ate it, then picked her up and went to lay on his bed.

The kitten looked away as if deciding whether or not she wanted back down, but the sunlight also shone on the bed, and she could sense that something was out of the ordinary with her little master. Pumpkin sniffed at Roy's face, then began to lick his forehead with her raspy pink tongue.

Roy cracked a little smile in spite of himself, and petted his cat. "Pumpkin, do you think my Daddy acts weird all the time 'cause he's scared? Do grown-ups even _get _scared, ya think?"

Pumpkin only rubbed her face against his and purred.

Whether she was trying to comfort him or only seeking attention, he was comforted all the same. He giggled. "I know, I love you too."

Brinna came into his room, where she knew she wasn't supposed to be, but he didn't notice. He was too busy trying to distract himself from what he had just overheard, and the sunlight _was _nice and warm. It was probably the last warm day they would have that year, if Anwell's old bones were anything to go by. And the warmth was making him sleepy.

Brinna frowned. It was very telling that he hadn't told her to 'go away' or 'get out of his room'. "You're s'posed to tell me to get out of your room. Then I say 'make me', and..."

Roy sighed and turned over.

Brinna went around to the other side of the bed to look him in the eye, but he closed his eyes and seemed to be pretending she wasn't there. Well, _that _wouldn't do! "Hey." She lightly jiggled his arm and leaned in to get in his face. "_Hey._ I'm talking to you."

Roy's eyes snapped open, and he suddenly reared his head back, startling Pumpkin and sending her scurrying backwards to crouch at the foot of the bed. "Yeaugh! You've been eating _onions!_"

Brinna intentionally breathed in his face, then chased him out of the room when he fled. Both were giggling by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, and that was about when they remembered that they were supposed to stay in their rooms. They stopped short when they saw Mother Nature, and Roy nervously clenched his hands behind his back. He had _always_ been in awe of Mother Nature! "He-he-hello, Mother Nature."

Mother Nature beamed at the two little intruders and knelt down to greet them. "Hello, children. You've grown!"

"Uh-huh!" Brinna dimpled prettily. "But we forgot, we were supposed to stay upstairs."

Fergus was angry, but not at them. He wasn't even angry at Mother Nature. Not really. He liberally slathered a scone with jam and observed the interaction without a word and with little interest.

"Oh?" Mother Nature was amused. "And what made you forget, little one?"

Mother Nature had asked Brinna, but it was Roy who answered. "Brinna's stinky _breath!_"

He had no idea why the adults all began to laugh. Even Fergus chuckled in spite of himself.

Brinna put her fists on her hips. "Well, at least I don't pick my nose!"

The grown-ups laughed louder at that, and Roy's face turned the color of a tomato. First he finds out that the man they were warned about was actually related to him, and now his family was _laughing_ at him! _Mother Nature_ was laughing! He clenched his little hands into fists as anger battled with hurt, and hurt won out. "I don't do that! _I'm _going back upstairs." And he did, stomping all the way.

"Oh!" Cori tried to stifle her giggles. "Darling, come back down, we're sorry!"

_**Slam!**_

Mother Nature shook her head. "Ohhh, my. I think we hurt his feelings. Poor boy."

Brinna trotted up the stairs and knocked on her brother's door, but she received no answer. Instead, all she heard was subdued sniffling and Pumpkin's concerned meows. "Roy, I'm sorry I said that. That was mean."

"It's not that. They _laughed _at me."

Brinna heard another quiet sniffle, and she just let herself right on into his room, closing the door behind her. He sat on his bed with his back to her, and she saw his shoulders shake as he held it in. "Oh, don't cry..."

"I'm not cryin'. I _don't_ cry!"

She fluttered over and settled down beside him, trying to put her arm around his shoulders, but he squirmed away from her and wiped furiously at his eyes. "You can say something mean about _me, _if you want." she offered.

"I don't wanna say something mean about _anyone, _I just d-don't...I don't like being _laughed at!_" His shoulders heaved twice, and he covered his face with his hands.

Brinna tried again, and this time he let her hug him. "Hey, Roy, guess what?"

"What?"

"You can't smell my stinky breath with a stuffed-up nose!"

And just like that, his tears turned to giggles and he hugged back. "I _don't _pick my nose, though."

"You did it this morning. I _saw_ you do it."

"I had an itch on the inside!" He roughly pulled away, but his blue mood was leaving and he was smiling again.

"_Suuure..._"

They were friends again. Cori, who had followed her daughter not long after, had heard this exchange and wondered if she should interrupt. Finally, hearing giggles, she knocked softly. "Roy, it's Momma. Can I come in?"

Roy stopped giggling, unsure if he even wanted her to. "Uh-huh..."

Their mother came into the room and knelt down in front of the bed, which they were still sitting on. She took her son's hands in her own and looked him in the eye. "Roy, we're _very _sorry for laughing at you. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

The boy felt an odd mixture of residual hurt and love for his mother, and instead of giving a verbal answer he just hugged her.

"Do you want to come back down? You're allowed now, we're all done talking."

He shook his head. "I wanna play with Pumpkin for a while."

"All right." Cori brushed one of his curls out of his face. He would need another haircut soon. "Come down when you're ready, then."

* * *

Less than three miles away from the Fairy Town, a lone traveler made his way through the countryside with no particular destination in mind. Tall he was, with unruly black hair gathered at the nape of his neck with a thin strip of rawhide. He carried all of his worldly belongings on his back, and his clothes, while once splendid, had gone ragged from overuse and time on the road. Anyone would have taken this man for a pauper, or a servant who had stolen his master's clothes, but he walked with an easy relaxed stride as if he owned the road itself and the land surrounding it. _Confident. _ That was a good word for him.

It was the man's face that really drew Brandel's attention. The man appeared human, which didn't mean much when Sprites could cover their pointed ears with their hair if it was long enough, and Fairies could hide their wings with a glamour. Or, in Brandel's case, their full selves. But this man's _face..._

It was a human-esque face, that couldn't be denied. But something about the angular quality of it hinted at something feral. His beard was scruffy, indicating that he had been traveling for quite a while without access to grooming supplies, so it was difficult to make this feature out, but at some point in his life a 'Glasgow grin' had been sliced into his right cheek. The scar was a pink slash through the black forest of his beard. And those dark eyes of his _watched._ There was something decidedly _inhuman _about him, but that difference was so inscrutable that many humans wouldn't even notice.

But Brandel noticed. And he also noticed that, even though this man was dressed like a pauper, the purse at his belt was full. _I can eat tonight...I can just wait for him to let his guard down long enough so's I can knock him out and take his gold...It'll be dark soon...I'll need to find a place to sleep, and I want a good meal and some ale to wash it down._

The man's pace slowed, and his nostrils gave a subtle flare as the wind shifted. He did not halt, but now his eyes scanned for anything out of the ordinary.

_He __**smells**__ me? No...that's impossible._

Brandel quietly followed after him, matching his stride so that he wouldn't be heard.

The man pivoted on the balls of his feet and faced what looked to be open air. "I know you're there. If you think that just because I can't see you, that means I can't _find _you, you're mistaken. Show yourself to me, Fairy, that we might meet as equals."

Well, this was unexpected! But Brandel could not comply. "Well, y'see, that's not really possible. Someone's after me, and I don't want them to sense me."

The man didn't relax, but he no longer appeared to be quite so hostile. "Why are they after you?"

"Misunderstanding," Brandel lied, "My inlaws are preventing my son from letting me see my grandson. Things got out of hand, their lies were believed over what I had to say, and here I am."

"I see."

"What's your name, good stranger?" Brandel asked pleasantly. He was beginning to close the distance between them, and the stranger stood his ground.

"What's yours?"

Brandel had to laugh at this man's bluntness. "I asked you first. And what are you doing so far in this direction?"

The man adjusted his pack. "Passing through. I'll not trouble you and yours. So long as you leave me in peace."

"Not very trusting, are you?"

"No."

Brandel was amused by this! "Then why are you still standing before me? Why not run?"

The man glanced at the sky for a brief moment as if waiting for something, and answered the question. "Not such a fool, that's why. You can fly, and I cannot. And I can't see you. By facing your voice, I have some idea of where an attack might come from. I was suspicious at first, and now I'm sure of it; you mean to rob me. And I _will not_ let you, sirrah."

"_Rob_ you? No, of course not!" Brandel pulled a small steel blade from its scabbard even as he denied it. It made no sound that he could hear, but the man seemed to hear it all the same. "I only want to talk. It's been so long since I've had a decent conversation."

"Legends state that the Fae are notorious liars. One should never give their full name to a Fairy."

"Oh, myths and legends abound, but so many are in conflict. Who knows what the truth really is?" Brandel was less than fifteen feet away now.

"I know something else."

The sun had only just dipped below the horizon, and the moon, which was full, peeped out from behind a cloud.

The man stifled a groan and dropped his pack.

Brandel took an involuntary step back as the man covered his face and began to writhe.

Groans turned into screams, which turned into roars. His feet, which were bare, lengthened, and he seemed to almost fall forward as his balance shifted him from walking flat-footed to balancing on the balls of his feet. No...not feet. _Paws._ A six-foot-seven human-looking man quickly became a hulking eight-foot-tall beast. His arms, which were now a bit longer in proportion to the rest of his body than they had been before, lowered to reveal a lupine muzzle and piercing golden eyes. A bushy tail waved slowly behind him, and his large triangular ears oriented on Brandel. When he spoke, his voice was significantly deeper than it had been before, but was still unmistakably the voice of the same person. "I know how to _wait._"

"One of the _Cursed Ones!_" The Fairy lunged, bringing his knife up in an underhand stab, aiming for the Werewolf's heart.

The Werewolf caught his wrist as easily as if he could see it coming. "I know that the legends say that Fairies just _love _to talk about themselves. I needed you to talk until the moon came, that I might have fighting chance against one with magic. But I'll give you what you weren't willing to give me."

The Werewolf _squeezed, _and Brandel had no choice but to drop the knife as the bones in his wrist ground against each other. He screamed, and the knife was confiscated.

"I give you _mercy. _I'll just keep this, though. I could use a new toothpick. Go back to your home, and leave me alone. Do you hear me?"

"Yes! _Please!_" Brandel screamed and clawed at his wrist with his free hand.

As soon as the Werewolf released him and resumed his stroll down the path, Brandel reached into his pocket. Most Fairy men carried a silver coin, and Brandel was no different. He was confident that he could get his revenge and fly off before he was caught, and the Werewolf would no longer have cause to be so smug!

Or would he?

The pointed ears tilted back to listen as Brandel removed the coin from his pocket and charged. It was a very short distance, less than fifteen feet, and if Brandel wasn't blind with rage at having been made a fool of, he wouldn't have tried it. The Werewolf turned so quickly that Brandel could hardly follow the movement, and casually backhanded him away. The silver coin bounced in the dirt, never even making contact.

"A coward, _and _a fool to boot."

The air around Brandel shimmered as if with heat distortion, and he slowly became visible. The blow had winded Brandel badly, even if it hadn't hurt very much, and he lost his concentration and allowed the glamour to slip. The Werewolf could not know this, but he now looked many centuries older than he really was. His magic had constantly been used, day and night, and the years had taken their toll. He got slowly to his feet, and his rage spiked when he saw that his 'attacker' was just..._standing _there. "What does a Werewolf who can easily hunt down his meals need with gold? Please...don't _hurt _me! I'm an old man...I just..."

That was as far as he got before he was pinned against a tree with a muzzle full of bared teeth less than an inch away from his face.

"I try to respect my elders, but in your case I'll make an exception. 'Old man'...Yes, an old man who would attack a stranger on the road...An old man who would have no cause to make himself invisible if he'd done nothing wrong...An old man who probably intended to kidnap his own grandson because he was told 'no'. _Why _would they tell you _'no'_, 'old man', hm? What did you do to your _son, _that he would hate and fear you so? An old man you might be...but _I'm _an old hand at sniffing out a coward. And _that's _what you are. A dangerous old coward, who's just come _this_ close to throwing his life away. I'll give you _one _more chance. Stop attacking me the second my back is turned...and leave. Me. Alone."

The Werewolf roughly let him go and backed off several paces, and Brandel bared his yellow, cracked teeth. His hands curled into fists, which began to glow so brightly that the Werewolf was forced to shield his eyes. "All I wanted was the gold, dog!"

A red orb the size of an apple streaked across the short distance and struck the Werewolf in the chest. There was the stench of singed fur, but all he did was snort. "Was that supposed to _hurt?_"

_Where is my magic?_ Brandel desperately tried to launch another orb, but nothing happened, and what little magic he had left was trapped within his wings, keeping him alive. But not for long. He felt his energy draining away as if he were a tapped keg, and someone had just turned the spigot. He tried to flap his wings to rise up into the air, but they wouldn't move.

"What's wrong with you?"

"No..."

Now the Werewolf cocked his head. "You're...You're actually _dying, _aren't you?"

"No, I can't die...Mother Nature, don't let me die..."

"There's no one else here." The Werewolf sighed, and his ears drooped. "You poor fool. I would have let you _go._ I _would_ have..."

The end happened so quickly that Brandel never even had time to scream. His red wings gave a dim flash, and he fell to the ground and didn't move. Alexander debated whether or not he should bury him. Or did Fairies use funeral pyres? What was the respectful (or, at least, decent) thing to do? This man had surely been filled with evil, but in the end, he had simply been desperate. _I could have spared a few coins..._

Then his hackles raised. He sensed the approach of a being of great power, and he wouldn't be able to change back into his human form until the sun came up again. And here he was, standing over the body of a dead Fairy, whom he had personally backhanded and threatened. This did _not_ look good!

Before he could leave, a beautiful woman with dark skin and a golden headdress appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. One moment she wasn't there, and then she _was._ And she was looking down at the dead man with a mixture of sorrow and disappointment. When she turned her gaze to the Werewolf she showed no fear, even as he towered over her. And why _should_ she have? A goddess had little to fear from a Werewolf. "I expected better from my children..."

Alexander dropped to one knee and respectfully lowered his head. "Your pardon, Milady, but he accosted me when I was in human form. I thought he was stronger than he was, and I never meant to..."

"I was talking about him." Mother Nature smiled sadly. "He tried to kidnap his grandson when the boy was just an infant, and he's hidden himself from me ever since. I've been looking for him for a _long_ time. It's...very sad and unfortunate that the two of you met. Now one of you is dead, essentially escaping my justice, and the other...what to do with you?"

There was a pregnant pause while the Werewolf waited for her to pass whatever sentence she deemed fitting, and he considered making a run for it or arguing, but there really wasn't any point. She would find him, no matter where he went.

"Well...Where would you _like _to go?"

He blinked, then cocked his head in confusion. "Huh?"

"You can't stay here. The Fairies call your kind 'The Cursed Ones'. If they discover traces of you, that could put you in conflict with each other. And there's been enough of that, I think."

"I...don't understand, Milady. You aren't going to kill me for this?"

"It's 'Mother Nature', if you don't mind." She gave a slight smile. "And no, I'm not. Death is part of the natural order of things. And he _did _die of natural causes, brought on by the extreme overuse of magic. Normally it would regenerate, but he's taxed himself so much by staying hidden all the time, that he simply..." Mother Nature shook her head, looking sad again. "I believe your story, because I could sense him when he became visible again. I sensed his intentions towards you. And I sensed that you gave him every opportunity to break off his attack. So, please, stand up and tell me where you would like to go."

Alexander got to his feet and tried in vain to straighten his clothing, but much of it had ripped. He internally thanked any deity who might be listening that his trousers had remained on his frame! "I heard rumors that I could find more of my kind in Scotland. I'd like to try my luck there."

She nodded. "So be it. Get your pack, and I will take you there." _And then I have business to attend to. Given their history, I don't know how Fergus will take this news..._

* * *

The next day, after Mother Nature had departed, Fergus excused himself from the house. His children were bursting with questions, and his wife was solicitous and loving as she always was, but he simply couldn't deal with people at the moment. He went out to the wood pile, which was a good distance away and out of sight from the house, and began splitting logs into kindling for their wood stove. Fairies only harvested wood from naturally fallen trees, but there was no shortage of those, not when there was an immense forest nearby. By the end of that day, he would have enough kindling to last them through the next six months, and he wouldn't be able to lift his right arm above shoulder level for a week.

It was over. It was really _over._ And he didn't feel at all like he thought he would feel. There was _relief..._of course there was. They no longer had to keep their children confined to the yard, and as Roy and Brinna got older they wouldn't be able to. School was mandatory, and Miss Auralia did not make house calls unless a student was really struggling with a subject. Roy and Brinna would have to go to _her,_ and not having to worry about their grandfather stealing them away was a _relief._

The resentment was expected, too. In a way, Brandel had won. He had escaped Mother Nature's justice, and he had died a relatively painless, natural death. Mother Nature's mention of a _Werewolf _in the area was _extremely_ concerning, but after hearing about the nature of that interaction and learning that she had spirited him away to another land where he couldn't threaten them even if he _was _inclined to do so, Fergus had no doubt that the stranger was no real danger to anyone, and that Brandel had provoked him.

What Fergus didn't expect was for it to _hurt._ That man had terrorized him, both in childhood and manhood. He had threatened his family. But early on, before Brandel had let the drink take over completely, there _had _been good times. Not many, but a few. Fergus remembered Brandel showing him how to make a whistle using only his thumbs and the cap of an acorn. He remembered Brandel staying up with him when he'd had the Flux as a very small child, and how he had wiped the vomit from his chin and told him 'better out than in'. He remembered a _hug._

He could only remember _one _hug.

Why couldn't his father keep loving him? What had he _done?_

Fergus chopped in a fury, breathing hard as sweat dripped from his brow, and for a moment he thought some of it had run into his eyes. Then his breath hitched, and his heart clenched. He missed the block, and the axe buried itself into the dirt.

_Why does it __**hurt **__so much?_

He kicked the log off the chopping block. For the first time since he was a very small child, Fergus sat down and cried.


End file.
